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A History of Ireland.

Volume 2

by Eleanor Hull

1931

XVIII.—THE FAMINE

;

The seventeen years during which Ireland had possessed its own Parliament had undoubtedly been a time of advance in trade and industry. Rents rose, the value of property doubled or even trebled in some parts of the country; and the population increased sixty per cent, in the twenty years between 1780 and 1800. The increase of tillage which followed upon Foster's Act is calculated by Newenham in 1805 at over six times the amount raised in 1785. There was a revival in the woollen and cotton manufactures and that of linen was making steady progress. The provision trade expanded, and brewing and distilling were re-established. The old glass industry took new developments. The removal of several disabilities in 1781 gave Catholics power to deal with land, and a pamphleteer writing in 1799 remarks that "our agriculture begins to improve from the moment that an intermission in the frenzy of our religious prejudice allowed us to follow our own interests by taking off those restraints which clogged the industry and damped the spirit of the nation."[1] Even Castlereagh, the chief mover in the project of the Union, declared that "no power in Europe has made more rapid strides in wealth and general happiness in the last fifteen years than Ireland."[2] On all hands, by the foes as well as by the friends of Irish independence, it was admitted that activity and energy had followed a period of great depression, and that there were signs of growing prosperity among the mercantile and industrial classes. But the poorer classes benefited little, for rents and the price of provisions rose out of all proportion to the rise in wages. Both in Dublin and in the agricultural districts the same wretched poverty existed, and in 1789 Arthur O'Connor thought the poor worse housed, worse clothed, and worse fed than the people of any nation in Europe.

[1] Quoted in George O'Brian, Economic History of Ireland in the Eighteenth Century, (1918), p. 37.
[2] Parliamentary History, xxxvi, 1709; Castlereagh Correspondence, iii, 204.
Dublin itself had a short period of splendour, the relics of which still remain in the handsome and highly adorned Georgian houses which surprise the visitor in various parts of the city.[3] There had always been fine mansions in or close to the metropolis, such as Leinster House and Charlemont House,[4] but now that the gentry came up to Dublin regularly to attend the sittings of Parliament the whole city took on a new aspect of dignity. From 1783 onward each year saw some new public building in course of construction. A National Bank was opened in 1783 and the fine Custom House built. The Order of St. Patrick was instituted in 1783. New squares added to the convenience of the citizens. Fine pictures and statuary adorned the houses of the aristocracy and their beautiful seats were scattered about the provinces. Carriages and entertainments made Dublin life an imitation of that of London. On a Sunday the North Circular Road, now so changed, was a parade for sumptuous equipages, and the populace turned out to watch the line of carriages which drove by with their postillions, that of the Chancellor, Lord Clare, being the most conspicuous. The Royal Irish Academy, founded to encourage Irish and scientific studies, awakened a fresh interest in the antiquities and history of the country and formed a centre where men of intelligence could meet. The Dublin Society pursued steadily its encouragement given to agriculture and the breeding of horses and cattle, and bestowed bounties and rewards for improvements. But speculation was rife, and favouritism made away with vast sums of money; in 1784 Irish finance had changed from a substantial credit account into a public debt of £2,000,000.

[3] See the publications of the Georgian Society of Dublin.
[4] Leinster House is now the meeting-place of the Dail and Senate. Charlemont House is being converted into a municipal picture gallery.
This was within two years of the establishment of legislative independence.

But after this plunge into extravagance the country seemed to be recovering itself. On July 20, 1799, Cornwallis wrote to the Duke of Portland, commenting on the decrease of rebellion: "Since I last addressed your Grace the tranquillity of the country has been uninterrupted, and there is every appearance at present of its continuing so. The late seasonable rains afford a prospect of an abundant crop, and the people are universally industrious. There is the greatest activity in all money transactions, and every species of business is carried on with energy. The accounts I receive from the North, in respect of the linen trade, are particularly flattering...The revenue continues to rise and promises to exceed the produce of 1798 in the same proportion as the produce of 1798 did that of 1797."[5] This favourable condition of things did not long survive the Union. The transference of the hundred Members who went to sit in the English House of Commons did far more to disintegrate the life of the Irish metropolis than the actual numbers would show. The centre of attraction changed from Dublin to London, and with the intellectual, political, and social activities removed to a distance, and the leading gentry drawn away during the larger part of the year, Dublin ceased to hold its natural place as the capital of the country.

[5] Castlereagh Correspondence, ii, 352; and cf. the letter of James Dawson to the same effect, ibid., 375.
The fine houses were vacated and fell into decay; many whole streets of what were the fashionable quarters of the city slowly degenerated into tenements of the lowest class, and money which might have been spent in Dublin was expended in London. The attention of the upper classes was no longer concentrated on their own country, and education, culture, and wealth alike tended to become thoroughly English in outlook and ambition. It became increasingly difficult to find men of position to take posts in their own country. Even in 1880 Bright, speaking in the House of Commons, quoted the complaint of a magistrate in one of the central towns in Ireland as to the difficulty of getting suitable men to put on the Bench. He said: "If a man has a few thousands a year he resides in London; if he has a thousand a year, he lives in Dublin."[6] Absenteeism was one of the oldest ills of Ireland, but the Union did more than any other single event to stimulate it. The general unrest, the land and tithe wars, the want of social and intellectual intercourse, and the gap in ordinary life between the interests of the different classes, all helped to increase the numbers who made England their home for a considerable part of each year.

[6] Daily Telegraph, August 17, 1880, quoted by R. Barry O'Brien, The Parliamentary History of the Irish Land Question (1880), p. 13n.
The main trouble of this period was the long and bitter land war, arising out of conditions of old standing between owners and tenants. The system of land tenure was so different over the larger part of the country from that in force in England that it was found difficult to make it understood in the House of Commons. In England the landlords were accustomed to erect buildings on their properties, to fence and drain, and generally to help the farmer to improve his land, besides giving some compensation for the farmer's improvements at the end of a lease. There was also a disposition, if a farmer had been successful in his farm, to renew the lease to him if he required it, in preference to seeking a new tenant elsewhere.

In Ulster, also, under the "Ulster custom" introduced by the Scottish settlers, reasonable arrangements prevailed; a tenant who had paid his rent could not be put out of his farm without due cause, nor could the rent be raised on account of the tenant's own improvements. It gave permissive fixity of tenure and it enabled the tenant to sell the goodwill of his farm, if he desired to do so, provided that he obtained the approbation of his landlord. The arrangement between the two was of mutual advantage, and as a rule it worked well, land troubles being infrequent in Ulster. Over the rest of the country, however, no such reasonable terms of land-tenure prevailed. A most irritating and unsatisfactory system left the tenant at the mercy of his landlord, discouraged industry in the holder of land, and prevented any sense of security such as would encourage the improvement of the farm by the tenant. "The landlords never erect buildings on their property or expend anything in repairs."[7] The landlord was not a partner in the production of his land; he was simply a receiver of rent. Six months' credit was usually given for rent in arrears, after which, if the rent was not paid, the cattle were distrained and driven off to the pound, to be sold after a certain number of day's confinement. The peasants called this "the hanging gale." The agent was often the real master and the tenants were powerless in his hands. Wakefield tells us that he had often seen distraint made after the tenant had paid his rent to the middleman, who had failed to pay it over to the head-landlord; he ascribes to this "illegal severity, which anyone who has resided any time in Ireland must have witnessed," the frequent risings of the people and the atrocities, "shocking to humanity and disgraceful to the Empire," committed.

[7] Edward Wakefield, An Account of Ireland, statistical and political (1812), i, 244-245.
The tenant was required to give bodily service free to his landlord at certain seasons of the year and the rent was often far out of proportion to that which would have been demanded for similar land in England. An agent writes: "the tenants are too frightened to make an offer for land, and they agree to any terms imposed by the middlemen; they will accede to any conditions rather than quit the land." The length of the leases differed on different estates and the tenants subdivided the holding among "an indefinite number of holders," which Wakefield says is "an old established practice, handed down from father to son"; each taking "a man's share" of that which originally belonged to one name in the lease; that is, they "gavelled" out the land after the manner of their forefathers, the pasture land being held in common. It seems clear that the owners simply carried on a system which they found in existence when they settled in the country and which was much to their advantage.

The loose and indefinite tie between owner and cottier, the part-payment in kind or labour, the impounding of cattle, the subdivision or "gavelling" of the farms into small holdings, were all parts of the old native system which in earlier times subsisted between the Irish chief and his people. It was a thoroughly bad system, placing in the hands of the owner indefinite powers of oppression, of which, in frequent cases, he was all too ready to take advantage. When a man improved his farm at his own expense, so far was he from receiving compensation or encouragement, that his rent was often raised because of his own improvements. When his lease came to an end he had no claim to its renewal. "Many landed proprietors," Mr. Townsend tells us, "advertise to let to the highest bidder, without any consideration for the claim of the occupying tenant."[8] The tenant's sole means of livelihood being usually his plot of land, rather than be turned out he would submit to terms which in many cases he was unable to meet, and thus he lived in hourly terror of eviction. He settled on a small holding and, having no inducement to improve it, or any animating hope of its renewal upon reasonable terms, he would usually, as the time for the expiry of his lease drew near, "rack and impoverish the land he had so little chance of retaining."[9] It was a condition of things equally disastrous to the country, to the landlord, and to the cottier; the latter was, in fact, little better than a serf, disposable at the will of his owner; it was only the middlemen who reaped a certain profit. Wakefield shows that the agent frequently had a far larger income than the proprietor. The owner of Muckross in Wakefield's day gained £7,000 a year from his estate, but his agent possessed himself of £17,000.[10]

[8] Townsend, Statistical Survey of Cork, p. 583.
[9] E. Wakefield, op cit., i, 244.
[10] Ibid., i, 261-262.
The landlords were by no means all rackrenters nor were the absentee owners always the worst. The conditions varied greatly on different estates. Some of the Galway estates were miserably grazed, while those of Lord Fitzwilliam in Wicklow were far better managed "preference being always given to the old tenants if they were desirous of renewal." Some of the largest southern properties, again, were badly managed and cultivated, but on others, like those belonging to Lord Shannon and Colonel FitzGerald, the tenants were living in a state of comparative affluence. But, at the worst, as one of the witnesses before the Select Committee of 1825 stated in his evidence, there was "no check on the landlord's power;...under cover of law, he may convert that power to any purposes he pleases. The consequence is that when he wishes he can extract from the peasant every shilling, beyond bare existence, which can be produced from the land."[11]

[11] Select Committee of the House of Lords, 1825, minutes of evidence, pp. 165, 179; and cf. Report of Select Committee on the Irish Poor Laws, 1823.
The evil system percolated downward from class to class. As the owner or large farmer ground down his tenants so the tenants imposed upon the cottiers beneath them. In some cases, they charged such high rents to the wretched cottier that they themselves escaped almost scot-free. "It is not too much to say," a farmer in Tanderagee reported, "that for one tenant in a state of misery there are twenty cottiers in destitution." Besides the heavy rent, the tenant had power to exact a certain number of days' labour, without pay, usually at the time of year when it was most needful that the labourer should be at work on his own holding. On one property in the North of Ireland, where the tenants only paid on an average £1 2s. 2d. per acre, the cottiers paid £4 16s. 5d. per acre to the tenants. In other townlands the difference was as much as £1 6s. 6d. against the labourer's £12 8s. an acre. The cottier was necessarily always in arrears and had to take advances at an exorbitant rate of interest. He was completely at the mercy of the man above him and practically his slave.[12] Thus it was not, in a large number of cases, the large proprietor who exacted these high rents; he let on long leases, usually at a moderate rental. It was the class beneath him, the poor but extravagant gentry and the wealthy farmers, who oppressed the labourers and reaped the profit. As many as six or seven middlemen often stood between the owner and the small holder or occupier, all deriving their profit from the soil, of which the price had been forced up far beyond its genuine value. If the owner were also an absentee, the hardship became heavier, for the small holder had no protector, and the money provided by so much hardship was spent out of the country.

[12] Evidence given before the Devon Commission, Digest, pp. 552-554; 556-557.
The general result of the bad system practised was the absolute demoralization and degradation of the peasantry. The cottier lived from hand to mouth, having no property in his holding and therefore no interest in improving it. The pig, if he had one, was usually sold "to pay the rint," not to feed the family; the cow, or bed, or potatoes might be seized and disposed of if the rent were in arrears. A witness before the Select Committee of 1825, Mr. Nimmo, adds: "I conceive the peasantry of Ireland to be, in general, in the lowest possible state of existence. Their cabins are in a most miserable condition and their food potatoes, with water, without even salt." Even the potatoes were of the worst sort. The good potato was being replaced over a large part of the country by an inferior tuber, used elsewhere only to feed cattle and pigs. The Select Committees sitting at the time give pitiable accounts of the usual conditions; they amply explain the terrible toll of human life taken among the underfed people by the recurrent famines of the nineteenth century, culminating in the Great Famine of 1846. If the Irish peasant is improvident, idle, and thriftless, it is to be remembered that the bad customs of centuries into which he was born and which he had no power to remedy, have helped to make him so. Yet the man (and there were thousands of these) who lived upon a miserable plot of often barren ground at home with his family and who walked annually to the nearest port for Liverpool, often right across Ireland, in order to lay by sufficient out of an English or Scottish season's harvesting to pay his landlord's rent and keep his cottage, can hardly be accused of idleness. He was worthy of some better chance of existence and of more nourishing food than he ever got. If he were a man of spirit and tried to improve his holding, the landlord and the tithe-proctor were both at hand to come down upon him at the end of the quarter for increased rent; under such circumstances, industry was not a quality to be encouraged.

The tithe was an ever-present and natural source of discontent: the final pressure which forbade the poor man to rise. When his landlord, his tithe, and his own church dues were all paid, there was little enough left to support his family. The tithe-proctor was even more dreaded than the agent, for his demands were less well defined and his methods more exacting. Very bad cases sometimes occurred, and with the gradual rise in the status of the Catholic population, impatience grew more pronounced, while the years of famine aggravated the evil. Grattan began to debate the matter in 1787, but for nearly forty years nothing was done to deal satisfactorily with the problem. Some relief was rendered urgent by the outbreak of the tithe war, which arose partly from an attempt to force the Catholic priests to pay tithe as well as the people. Terrible scenes were enacted and sanguinary contests took place between the military sent down to enforce the law and the populace; nor did the attempt of the Government to collect the tithe themselves tend to ameliorate the situation.

During the year 1832 nearly nine thousand agrarian crimes were committed in Ireland, many of them in Leinster, the chief centre of the tithe war. Of these two hundred were murders. The improvement in these frightful conditions will ever be associated with the name of Thomas Drummond, a Scotsman who came over as Under-Secretary to Lord Morpeth in 1835, and set himself resolutely to enforce the law impartially on behalf of all classes alike.[13] The firmness, wisdom, and moderation of the administration for which he was mainly responsible brought about a short period of quiet in Ireland without resort to any coercive measures. Drummond put down lawlessness with a firm hand; he did not hesitate to rebuke the extravagances of O'Connell on the one side or the violence of the Orangemen on the other. The creation of the metropolitan police in 1829 and the improvements introduced in the discipline of the Irish constabulary in Drummond's day did much to enforce order, but agents of secret societies continued to foster agrarian crime and to terrorize the country. A chronic state of lawlessness seemed to have taken hold on the people, and secret societies were joined by thousands of young men. Whiteboyism revived and Blackfeet, Whitefeet, Terry Alts, Rockites, and Ribbonmen, all had their troops of followers, many of whom joined in self-defence. Though ultimately it was misery that stirred them to violent courses it was not the poorest that usually took part in them. "There is no danger in poverty," said O'Connell; "it is the smug, saucy, and venturous youth of the farmer class that plot and perpetrate all the predial mischief." "Whiteboy acts," we hear again, "are for the most part perpetrated by sturdy, lazy fellows who are unwilling to work."[14] But it must be allowed that O'Connell's continual agitation and appeal to popular passions played their part in the work, heartily as he disapproved of the exhibitions of discontent he had done so much to stir up.

[13] R. Barry O'Brien, Life and Letters of Thomas Drummond (1889).
[14] MacCullagh Torrens, Twenty Years in Parliament (1893), p. 299; Cusack, Life of O'Connell, i, 456; and cf. Lewis, Irish Disturbances (1831), pp. 89-92.
The condition of the country was such as to alarm the most optimistic mind. The Irish Poor Law enquiry of 1837 had witnessed to "the painful certainty that there is in all parts of Ireland much and deep-seated distress." The lack of industries threw the large majority of the population on the land for support but with wages averaging about 8 1/2d. a day or, for all the year round, 2s. or 2s. 6d. a week, it was impossible to support a decent existence or to attempt to save for sickness or old age. In bad harvests there was no choice but to starve, for the people had no money in their hands and no means of livelihood to turn to. During thirty weeks of each year, it was computed that not less than 585,000 labourers, not reckoning their families, were out of work, for the planting and cultivation of potatoes in no way filled a man's time and there was nothing else to do. The Government attempt to introduce the workhouse system into Ireland, though undoubtedly it proved a palliative during the famine years, was disliked even more in Ireland than in England and was denounced especially by O'Connell. The Report says that "the able-bodied out-of-works would endure any misery rather than live in a workhouse," and adds that "we see the labouring class eager for work."[15] The Commissioners recommended State-aided emigration, drainage, the destruction of unwholesome cabins, and improvements on the farms, with the founding of agricultural schools, all which expedients were resorted to on a large scale during the famine with both good and evil results. One direct benefit from the establishment of the Poor Law, which was laid on the landlords for part payment, was an increased interest shown by them in the condition of their estates. It was better for them to keep their tenants in decency than that they should go on the rates and have to be maintained largely out of the landlords' pockets. In many cases they pulled down the insanitary cabins and assisted the cottiers to emigrate, introducing a better system on their properties. The one thousand properties held under the Courts of Chancery and Exchequer were noted for neglect, no attempt to improve them ever being made. The severity of the famine was the direct result of the mismanagement of the estates.

[15] Abstract of the Final Report of the Commissioner's of Irish Poor Law Inquiry, 1837.
Famines were becoming chronic, but those of the years 1846-47 were the worst ever experienced. The potato disease passed over westwards from the Continent and was felt in a lesser degree in parts of England and Scotland. It spread with appalling rapidity. In one week in August the apparently abundant crop was stricken. Captain Mann of Clare writes: "In July, I had passed over thirty-two miles thickly studded with potato-fields in full bloom. The next time the face of the whole country was changed; the stalk remained a bright green but the leaves were all scorched black. It was the work of a night. Distress and fear were pictured on every countenance, and there was a general rush to dig or sell."[16] The accounts by eye-witnesses of the horrors of the famine are too terrible to repeat. "It is as if a destroying angel had swept over the country," exclaimed a Member in the House of Commons; "the whole population struck down; the air a pestilence; the fields a solitude; the chapel deserted; the priest and the pauper famishing together; no inquest, no rites, no record even of the dead:...death, desolation, despair, reigning through the land."[17] Before such a calamity the ordinary methods of relief were helpless. In similar extremities the usual trade regulations had been occasionally suspended and special means taken to preserve the food grown in the country for the famishing inhabitants.[18]

[16] Quoted in Sir George Nicholls, History of the Irish Poor Law (1856), p. 310.
[17] Hansard, 3rd series, cv., p. 609, May 17, 1849; quoted in Bryce, Two Centuries of Irish History (1888), p. 403.
[18] Sir Robert Peel, Memoirs, ii, 188-89.
The wheat crop in Ireland was hardly up to the average,[19] and the barley and oats were deficient; yet it is undoubted that if the corn had been kept in the country a multitude of lives might have been saved. The English Parliament was at the moment immersed in the struggle for the repeal of the Corn Laws, and Peel was driven from power to make room for the party of Lord John Russell just when what Russell truly described as a thirteenth century famine in a nineteenth century population was at its height. The case of Ireland was used in debate as an example of the necessity of a free ingress of corn; but in this instance the prevention of corn leaving the country would have been a more effective means of preserving life. But a host of objections from merchants and ship-owners put a stop to all hope of such direct measures of relief and the removal of impediments to import took their place. For the moment this made the provision of outside supplies cheaper and easier, but its permanent effect was to encourage competition which brought down prices and ruined Ireland as a corn-producing country with a sure market close at hand. It encouraged the tendency to turn arable land into pasture, producing cattle for meat instead of wheat and barley.

[19] Sir George Nicholls, History of the Irish Poor Law (1856), p. 311.
This was one main cause of the wholesale evictions for which the famine years furnished a plausible excuse, the reversion to pasture requiring fewer labourers and bringing milling and its kindred trades to an end. The repeal of the Corn Laws was largely responsible for the very slow recovery of the country after the famine years. Conditions were changed; labour was not wanted; and though the population had been reduced through death and emigration by nearly two million persons between the census of 1841 and 1851, there were still too many inhabitants for the means of livelihood.

The tide of emigration, once set in, has never come to an end. The population, which numbered in 1841 some 8,196,597 persons had been reduced, by the time the census was taken in 1911, to 4,390,219, hardly more than half the number. The 1926 Census gives 4,229,124 as the total population, the decrease being entirely in the Free State. Though Peel's repeal of the Corn Laws was an indirect cause of this great decrease, at the moment of carrying the measure he relied on it to bring corn into the harbours of Ireland to relieve distress. The slow methods of Parliamentary debate were, however, not suited to such an emergency; on the heels of the famine typhus and dysentery were treading and immediate aid was called for; even from the consideration of self-preservation succour was needed, for the people were pouring over to Lancashire, Lanarkshire, and other places to seek work, bringing with them the seeds of pestilence and death. The emigrant vessels to the United States were becoming plague-ships, in which the victims, closely packed and already weakened by hunger, succumbed long before they reached the shores of the New World. The efforts to meet the emergency, inadequate as they proved to be, were on a liberal scale. Private charity found its way to the sufferers through thousands of channels, "of the aggregate result of which no estimate can be formed." England, the States, and Ireland itself formed innumerable associations for relief, and did voluntary work for the suffering which has perhaps only been equalled in the recent Great War. The Government suspended the duties on foreign corn, ordered Indian meal from the United States to the amount of £100,000, and established all over the country depots for its distribution on a large scale. But the lack of money to purchase food among the sufferers showed the necessity for other measures; and public works were set on foot which employed at one time as many as 97,000 persons.

Unfortunately, like most hurried or panic legislation, these extensive relief works were planned on no system of permanent benefit to the country. It was made a stipulation that no private landowner should benefit by them, a rule which excluded reclamation, drainage, and many other much-needed plans for the permanent advantage of the country. The £50,000 voted by Parliament, which was to be supplemented on the spot, was mostly wasted in entirely unproductive labour. The Knight of Glyn found large numbers of people engaged in filling up the cutting in a hill with the stuff they had taken out of it. Thousands were set to dig up good macadamized coach-roads with spades and turf-cutters.[20]

[20] Mitchel, History of Ireland, ii, 408-409.
An army of twelve thousand overseers superintended these useless works, absorbing a large proportion of the relief money into their own pockets. The fisheries were deserted, the fields untilled, shoes and boots went without mending, because from all over the country men crowded in to get "the Queen's pay."[21] Universal demoralization set in. The landlords, already sore beset with the increased poor rates and cess, were none too well off, as was later to be proved by their efforts to sell their properties under the Encumbered Estates Act of 1849. Lord Clarendon wrote to Peel when the Bill was mooted: "The condition of the landlords generally is deplorable. As a body they are insolvent. Many of them lack the first necessaries of life."[22] In these circumstances it is not altogether surprising that many of them took little interest in relief works which were quite useless to the country or themselves, or that the labourers did the smallest amount of work compatible with drawing the wages given. The average number employed was in October 1846 some 114,000 persons, but early in the following year it had risen to 570,000; more than two million persons altogether were employed on relief works. The old, the young, and the disabled died; their corpses lay along the roads or were cast into hasty pits without coffins. Those who had saved money and could afford the passage fled to America or took low-grade employment in London, Manchester, and Glasgow, or other towns. The emigration returns show an increase of from 28,000 in 1840 to 105,955 in 1846. It was the best and most thrifty of the young people who emigrated to the States and Canada, many of them respectable agriculturalists and artisans whose loss to the country was a severe one.

[21] Nicholls, op. cit., p. 315, and see Trevelyan, The Irish Crisis.
[22] See G. O'Brien, The Economic History of Ireland from the Union to the Famine, p. 136; and the opinion of Sir Samuel Ferguson stated in his speech at the Protestant Repeal Meeting, May, 1848, in his Life by his wife (1896), i, 246-254.
The landlords in many cases took full advantage of the inability of their people to pay their rents to eject them in large numbers and to burn down their cabins. The obligation to become responsible for the support or part-support of the famine-stricken of their own townlands led to a general adoption by needy proprietors of this cheap but heartless method of relieving themselves of their responsibilities; and the clause introduced into the Poor Law Act of 1847 which forbade relief to all who occupied more than a quarter of an acre of land, though intended to limit relief to the most necessitous, had the effect of inducing large numbers of distressed people to give up their holdings in order to claim relief. Admission to a workhouse was only allowed to those who held no land. The universal impoverishment caused by this clause, coming to reinforce the temptation which the Corn Law Repeal gave to owners to turn their properties into pasture and get rid of their tenants greatly changed the face of the country. A Tipperary priest in 1852 wrote: "Two-thirds of my congregation have departed to the workhouse or gone to America. I was, God help me, very proud of my flock seven or eight years ago...I used to point to them as the decentest and best conducted people in the country. My chapel always overflowed. There is hardly a third of it occupied at present...There is squalor and rags, tottering old age and no children."[23] The people were "clad like beggars, housed like beggars, and fed like beggars."

[23] Quoted in C. Gavan Duffy, League of the North and South (1886), p. 184.
Famine had become a recurrent phenomenon and in 1850 it was computed that a hundred persons a week still died of hunger or of the diseases begotten of hunger. Two-thirds of the farms of from one to five acres which had existed in 1841 had disappeared. The landlords became known as "Exterminators," and when a farm was put up for sale it was a common question whether it had been "cleared" of small holders. In one small barony (Kilrush) the dwellings of fifteen thousand persons had been destroyed. In revenge, all sorts of evasions of rent and of the law became usual among the distressed occupants. Captain Larcom's Report gives the total number of evictions in the years 1848-49 as 177,178, which, taking an average of five in a family, would make 585,890 poor people turned out of their homes into the roads in two years. It was manifest that no Poor Law provision could meet the needs of such a mass of misery, crowded and insanitary as the workhouses were. The sufferings of the emigrants were even worse, and on their arrival in America thousands of them, thrown out upon the streets without money, and ignorant of any trade or calling, sank into the purlieus of the great cities and fed the taverns and the gaols. The Catholic Bishop of Toronto revealed a condition of things that was truly appalling. In that city in 1863, out of a total prison population of 1,901, the Irish numbered 1,168, of whom 703 were women. Other nationalities came over, the Bishop says, with the means of establishing themselves on farms or as mechanics, but a large majority of the Irish were penniless. The parish priest of Montreal gave an even worse account of what had happened in his city, to which bands of young Irish women were sent out from the degrading workhouses at home.[24]

[24] See Kirkham's articles in the Irish People, 1863-65; and John O'Leary, Recollections of Fenians and Fenianism (1896), vol. ii.
Emigration is a benefit only when carefully superintended, and when the emigrants are chosen with discretion and placed in positions for which they are fitted, with sufficient means to tide them over the period of removal and settlement. To cast on American shores multitudes of poverty-stricken, diseased, and famished people, absolutely ignorant of any trade or of the knowledge even of reading and writing, was to provoke the utmost misery and to make the emigrants themselves a source of evil wherever they settled.

The Devon Commission, appointed on February 14, 1845, to inquire into the land conditions in Ireland had disclosed a condition of things which pointed to the need for immediate legislation. It was presided over by the Earl of Devon and was composed entirely of landowners; while out of the 303 witnesses called 47 were landlords, 47 agents, and 128 farmers. Yet, though the Commission might be considered one-sided, it made useful suggestions, recommending that encouragement should be given to tenants by letting to them on longer leases and that fair compensation should be offered for improvements. In June of the same year Lord Stanley introduced a Bill based on the findings of this Commission. He rejected emigration, the fashionable remedy for all Irish ills, contending that the question was to be solved by rooting the occupier "not out of, but on the soil"; and he argued for a system which should induce the tenant to invest his labour and capital in his land. Stanley's Land Bill and Sharman Crawford's Tenant Right Bill, a measure formed on similar lines, were fought with perseverance but again and again rejected. Horseman's saying that "Ireland has been truly described as one adjourned debate" was as true of the Land Act as it was to prove later on the question of Home Rule. Seven years after the Devon Commission had reported, the only Act passed regarding Irish land was the Encumbered Estates Act, which relieved the landlords, but did not improve the status of the tenant. Rather it deprived him of any ownership in his holding and allowed the head landlord to sell outright over his head. Six months after the passing of this Act, in 1849, over thirteen million pounds worth of property had come under the operation of the new law; but none of it was sold to tenants, nor was any regard paid to claims made by the tenants for improvements. Meanwhile, suspensions of the Habeas Corpus Act took the place of remedial measures, and in the fourth year of the famine, with sixty per cent. of the population receiving relief, nothing permanent had been done.

But the agitation was spreading through Ireland and once more Ulster held out a hand of resolute assistance to the South. The ruin that had desolated other provinces was beginning its work of destruction in the North. William Sharman Crawford, a County Down man, again introduced his Bill, which from his persistence became known as "Crawford's Craze," and on its accustomed defeat the Irish Attorney-General, Joseph Napier, of Belfast, presented to the House a Government Bill which contained a clause protecting tenant's improvements and in favour of compensation. It was not passed, though John Bright, who had been studying the Report of the Devon Commission, now threw the weight of his powerful advocacy into the cause of the tenants and Lord Dufferin and Charles Gavan Duffy ably supported the relief bills. But all efforts up to and including the elaborate but abortive Bills of 1860 and 1867, failed to effect any real improvement in the condition of land tenure; [25] they were of so complicated and unsatisfactory a nature that their abandonment was not to be regretted, and it was not until Gladstone brought in his Land Bill of February 15, 1870, twenty-five years after the sitting of the Devon Commission, that a real attempt was made to settle the question. But, in the meantime, the great annual wave of emigration continued and evictions for non-payment of rent "fell like snow-flakes" on the unprotected tenants. It was some time yet before the peasant was to be "rooted in the soil."

[25] R. Barry O'Brien, The Parliamentary History of the Irish Land Question (1880), ch. v.
END OF CHAPTER XVIII