Attachment of the lower orders to the gentry.

Chapter III

Irish Gentry and their Retainers.

Instances of attachment formerly of the lower orders of Irish to the gentry - A field of corn of my father’s reaped in one night without his knowledge - My grandfather’s servants cut a man’s ears off by misinterpretation - My grandfather and grandmother tried for the fact - Acquitted - The colliers of Donane - Their fidelity at my election at Ballynakill, 1790.

The numerous and remarkable instances which came within my own observation of mutual attachment between the Irish peasantry and their landlords in former times would fill volumes. A few only will suffice, in addition to what has already been statet to shew the nature of that reciprocal good-will which on many occasions was singularly useful to both: and in selecting these instances from such as occurred in my own family, I neither mean to play the vain egotist nor to determine generals by particulars, since good landlords and attached peasantry were then spread over the entire face of Ireland, and bore a great proportion to the whole country.

I remember that a very extensive field of corn of my father’s had once become too ripe, inasmuch as all the reapers in the country were employed in getting in their own scanty crops before they shedded. Some of the servants had heard my father regret that he could not by possibility get in his reapers without taking them from these little crops, and that he would sooner lose his own.

This field was within full view of our windows. My father had given up the idea of being able to cut his corn in due time. One morning, when he rose, he could not believe his sight-he looked, rubbed his eyes, called the servants and asked them if they saw anything odd in the field - they certainly did - for, on, our family retiring to rest the night before, the whole body of the peasantry of the country, after their hard labour during the day, had come upon the great field and had reaped and stacked it before dawn! None of them would even tell him who had a hand in it.

Similar instances of affection repeatedly took place; and no tenant on any of the estates of my family was ever distrained, or even pressed for rent. Their gratitude for this knew no bounds; and the only individuals who ever annoyed them were the parsons by their proctors, and the tax-gatherers for hearth-money; and though hard cash was scant with both landlord and tenant, and no small bank-notes had got into circulation, provisions were plentiful, and but little inconvenience was experienced by the peasantry from want of a circulating medium. There was constant residence and work: no banks and no machinery; and though the people might not be quite so refined, most undoubtedly they were vastly happier.

But a much more characteristic proof than the foregoing of the extraordinary devotion of the lower to the higher orders in Ireland in former times occurred in my family, and is on record.

My grandfather, Mr. French, of County Galway, was a remarkably small, nice little man, but of an extremely irritable temperament. He was an excellent swordsman; and, as was often the case in that county, proud to excess.

Some relics of feudal arrogance frequently set the neighbour and their adherents together by the ears. My grandfather had conceived a contempt for and antipathy to a sturdy *half-mounted *gentleman, one Mr. Dennis Bodkin who, having an independent mind, entertained an equal aversion to the arrogance of my grandfather, and took every possible opportunity of irritating and opposing him.

My grandmother, an O’Brien, was high and proud - steady and sensible; but disposed to be rather violent at times in her contempts and animosities, and entirely agreed with her husband in his detestation of Mr. Dennis Bodkin.

On some occasion or other, Mr. Dennis had outdone his usual outdoings, and chagrined the squire and his lady most outrageously. A large company dined at my grandfather’s, and my grandmother launched out in her abuse of Dennis, concluding her exordium by an hyperbole of hatred expressed, but not at all meant, in these words:- “I wish the fellow’s ears were cut off that might quiet him.”

It passed over as usual: the subject was changed, and all went on comfortably till supper; at which time, when every body was in full glee, the old butler, Ned Regan, who had drank enough, came in joy was in his eye; and whispering something to his mistress which she did not comprehend, he put a large snuff-box into her hand. Fancying it was some whim of her old domestic, she opened the box and shook out its contents - when, lo! a considerable portion of a pair of bloody ears dropped on the table! The horror and surprise of the company may be conceived: upon which old Ned exclaimed - “Sure, my lady, you wished that Dennis Bodkin’s ears were cut off; so I told old Gahagan, the gamekeeper, and he took a few boys with him and brought back Dennis Bodkin’s ears, and there they are; and I hope you are plazed, my lady!”

The scene may be imagined, but its results had like to have been of a more serious nature. The sportsman and the boys were ordered to get off as fast as they could; but my grandfather and grandmother were held to heavy bail, and were tried at the ensuing assizes at Galway. The evidence of the entire company, however, united in proving that my grandmother never had an idea of any such order, and that it was a mistake on the part of the servants. They were, of course, acquitted. The sportsman never re-appeared in the county till after the death of Dennis Bodkin, which took place three years subsequently.

This anecdote may give the reader an idea of the devotion of servants in those days to their masters. The order of things is now reversed, and the change of times cannot be better proved than by the propensity servants *now *have to rob, and, if convenient, murder, the families from whom they derive their daily bread. Where the remote error lies, I know not, but certainly the ancient fidelity of domestics seems to be totally out of fashion with those gentry at present.

A more recent instance of the same feeling as that illustrated by the two former anecdotes-namely, the devotion of the country people to old settlers and families - occurred to myself, which, as I am upon the subject, I will now mention. I stood a contested election in the year 1790, for the borough of Ballynakill, for which my ancestors had returned two members to Parliament during nearly 200** **years. It was usurped by the Marquis of Drogheda, and I contested it.

On the day of the election, my eldest brother and myself being candidates, and the business preparing to begin, a cry was heard that the whole colliery was coming down from Donane, about ten miles off. The returning officer, Mr. French, lost no time: six voters were polled against me; mine were refused generally in mass; the books were repacked, and the poll declared - the election ended, and my opponents just retiring from the town, when seven or eight hundred colliers entered it with colours flying and pipers playing; their faces were all blackened, and a more tremendous assemblage was scarce ever seen. After the usual shoutings, &c., the chief captain came up to me:- “Counsellor, dear!” said he, “we ‘re all come from Donane to help your honour against the villains that oppose you. we ‘re the boys that can titivate! - Barrington for ever! hurra!” Then coming close to me, and lowering his tone, he added, - “Counsellor, jewel! which of the villains shall we settle first?”

To quiet him I shook his black hand, told him nobody should be hurt, and that the gentlemen had all left the town.

“Why, then, counsellor,” said he, “we’ll be after overtaking them. Barrington for ever! - Donane, boys!”

I feared that I had no control over the riotous humour of the colliers, and knew but one mode of keeping them quiet. I desired Billy Howard, the innkeeper, to bring out all the ale he had; and having procured many barrels in addition, together with all the bread and cheese in the place, I set them at it as hard as might be. I told them I was sure of being elected in Dublin, and *“to stay azy” *(their own language), and in a little time I made them as tractable as lambs. They made a bonfire in the evening, and about ten o’clock I left them as happy and merry a set of colliers as ever existed. Such as were able strolled hack in the night, and the others next morning, and not the slightest injury was done to anybody or anything.

This was a totally unexpected and voluntary proof of the disinterested arid ardent attachment of the Irish country people to all whom they thought would protect or procure them justice.

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