Valentine M'Clutchy, The Irish Agent Part 58

"But how?" said Clement, "is not that an invasion of private right?"

"No; it is nothing more than a principle which transfers an unsafe privilege to other hands in order to prevent its abuse."

"But how would you value the land?"

"I am not at this moment about to legislate for it; but I think, however, that it would be by no means difficult to find machinery sufficiently simple and effective for the purpose. I am clearly of opinion that there should, be a maximum value on all land, beyond which, unless for special purposes--such, for instance, as building--no landlord ought to be permitted to go. This would prevent an incredible amount of rack-renting and oppression on the one hand; and of poverty, revenge, and bloodshed on the other. Where is the landlord now who looks to the moral character or industrial habits of a tenant? Scarcely one.

On the contrary, whoever bids highest, or bribes highest, is sure to be successful, without any reference to the very qualities which, in a tenant, ought to be considered as of most importance."

"I have now," said Easel, "made myself acquainted with the condition and management of the Castle c.u.mber property; and, truth to tell, I am not surprised at the frightful state of society upon it. M'Clutchy is the type of too numerous a cla.s.s, and his son is a most consummate scoundrel. Why my--why Lord c.u.mber should have appointed him to his agency I cannot imagine."

"But I can," said Harman; "that which has appointed many a scoundrel like him--necessity on the part of the landlord, and a desire to extend his political influence in the county."

"He could not have gone a more successful way about it, however,"

observed Easel.

"If there be one curse," observed Harman, "worse than another on any such property, it is to have for your agent an outrageous partisan--a man who is friendly to one party and inimical to another--a fellow who scruples not to avail himself of his position, for the gratification of party rancor, and who makes the performance of his duties subservient to his prejudices, both religious and political. Think, for instance, of a rancorous No-Popery-man being made agent to an estate where the majority of the tenantry are Catholics."

"As is the case on the Castle c.u.mber estate," said Easel.

"And as is the case on too many estates, throughout the country," added Harman; but the truth is, that unless something is done soon to redress the local grievances of the people, there will, I fear, be bad work among us ere long. The tenantry are all ready in a state of tumult; they a.s.semble on Sundays in vindictive-looking and suspicious groups; they whisper together, as if fraught with some secret purposes; and I am also told that they frequently hold nightly meetings to deliberate on what may be done. Between the M'Clutchys and M'Slimes, I must say they have ample cause for discontent."

"Everything considered," said Easel, "it is better that we should antic.i.p.ate them. When I say we, you of course know who I mean; but indeed we shall expect every aid, and it will be welcome, no matter from what quarter it comes."

"M'Clutchy and the estate in question are topics on which I wish not to speak," said Hickman; "I do not blame Lord c.u.mber for dismissing me, Mr. Easel, the fact being--that I dismissed myself; but I most sincerely hope and trust, for the sake of the people, that some change for the better may take place. Good G.o.d, sir, how popular your----how popular Lord c.u.mber might become, and what a blessing to his tenantry and his country he might be in a short time."

"I feel that, Mr. Hickman," said Easel, "I feel it now, because I know it. In this instance, too, I trust that knowledge will be power. Lord c.u.mber, sir, like other Irish Lords, has nothing to detain him in his native country but his own virtue. His absence, however, and the absence of his cla.s.s in general, is, I fear "--and he smiled as he spoke--a proof that his virtue, as an Irish n.o.bleman, and theirs, is not sufficiently strong to resist the temptations of an English court, and all its frivolous, expensive, and fas.h.i.+onable habits. He has now no duty as an Irish peer to render his residence in Ireland, at least for a considerable portion of the year, a matter of necessity to his cla.s.s and his country. However, let us not despair--I have reason to think that his brother has nearly succeeded in bringing him to a sense of his duty; and it is not impossible that the aspect of affairs may be soon changed upon his estate."

"The sooner, the better, for the sake of the people," said Harman. "By the by, Mr. Clement, are you to be one of the Reverend gladiators in this controversial tournay, which is about to take place in Castle c.u.mber?"

"No," said Mr. Clement; "I look upon such exhibitions as manifestations of fanaticism, or bigotry, and generally of both. They are, in fact, productive of no earthly good, but of much lamentable evil; for instead of inculcating brotherly love, kindness, and charity--they inflame the worst pa.s.sions of adverse creeds--engender hatred, ill-will, and fill the public mind with those narrow principles which disturb social harmony, and poison our moral feelings in the very fountain of the heart. I believe there is no instance on record of a sincere convert being made by such discussions."

"But is there not an extensive system of conversion proceeding, called the New Reformation?" asked Easel. "It appears to me by the papers, that the Roman Catholic population are embracing Protestantism by hundreds."

"How little are the true causes of great events known," said Hickman, laughing; "who, for instance, would suppose that the great spiritual principle by which this important movement has been sustained is the failure of the potato crop in the country, where this gracious work is proceeding. One would think, if everything said were true, that there are epidemics in religion as well as in disease; but the truth is, that the knavery or distress of two or three Catholics who were relieved, when in a state of famine, by a benevolent and kind-hearted n.o.bleman, who certainly would encourage neither dishonesty nor imposture, first set this Reformation agoing. The persons I speak of, fearing that his Lords.h.i.+p's benevolence might cease to continue, embraced Protestantism _pro forma and pro tempore_. This went abroad, and almost immediately all who were in circ.u.mstances of similar dest.i.tution adopted the same course, and never did man pay more dearly for evangelical truth than did his Lords.h.i.+p. In the forthcoming battle the parsons are to prove to the world that all who belong to Popery must be d.a.m.ned, whilst the priests, on the other hand, broil the parsons until they blaze in their own fat.

But, my G.o.d, when will charity and common sense prevail over bigotry and brimstone!"

At this moment a servant entered to say that Poll Doolin--for she was well known--wished to see Mr. Harman on very particular business.

"I can scarcely bear to look on the wretch," said Harman, "but as I Strongly suspect, that she may in some shape be useful to us, I desired her to come here. She called three times upon me, but I could not bring myself to see or speak to' her; she shall be the bearer of no messages to me," he said bitterly, "let her carry them elsewhere; d--n her."

He betrayed deep and powerful emotion as he spoke, but, as his allusions were understood, there was--from a respect for his feelings, on the part of his audience--no reply made to his observations.

"Since she called first," said Harman, pursuing the train of melancholy thought, "some vague notion, like the shadow of a dream crossed me; but, alas! it is transgressing the bounds of imagination itself even to suppose that it could be true. However, if it were, it is in your presence, sir" he said, addressing himself to Easel, "that I should wish to have it detailed; and, perhaps, after all, this slight, but latent reflection of hope, influenced me in desiring her to come here.

Gentlemen, excuse me," said he, covering his face with his hands, "I am very wretched and unhappy--I cannot account for what has occurred; it looks like an impossibility, but it is true. Oh, if he were a man!--but, no, no, you all know how contemptible--what a dastardly scoundrel he is!"

"Harman, my dear fellow," said Hickman, "we understand you, we respect your feelings, and we sympathize with you--but, in the meantime, do see and hear this woman."

He had scarcely uttered the words when the servant entered, stating that she was at the door.

"Let her come in," said Harman; "let the vile wretch come in."

"And, do you, John, withdraw," said Hickman.

Poll Doolin entered.

Her appearance threw Harman into a violent state of agitation; he trembled, got pale, and seemed absolutely sickened by the presence of the wicked wretch who had been the vile instrument of Phil M'Clutchy's success, of Mary M'Loughlin's dishonor, and of his own unhappiness. It was the paleness, however, of indignation, of distress, of misery, of despair. His blood, despite the paleness of his face, absolutely boiled in his veins, and that the more hotly, because he had no object on which he could wreak his vengeance. Poll, who was always cool, and not without considerable powers of observation, at once noticed the tumult of his feelings, and, as if replying to them, said--

"I don't blame you, Mr. Harman, thinkin' as you do; the sight of me is not pleasant to you--and, indeed, you don't hate me more than you ought."

"What is your business with me?" said Harman.

Poll looked around her for a moment, and replied--

"I'm glad of it, the more the better; Francis Harman," she proceeded, "sit down, and listen to me; yes, listen to me--for I have it in my power to make you a happy man."

"Great G.o.d! could my dream be true?" said Harman, placing himself in the chair.

"Listen to me," she continued.

"I listen; be brief--for I am in no humor for either falsehood or imposture."

"I never bore you ill-will," she said, "and yet I have--and may G.o.d forgive me for it I--scalded the very heart within you."

Harman again covered his face with his hands and groaned.

"Will it relieve your heart to know that Mary M'Loughlin's an innocent and a slandered girl?"

"Prove that," said Harman, starting to his feet, "oh, prove that, Poll, and never whilst I have life shall you want a--but, alas!" he exclaimed, "I am a beggar, and can promise you nothing."

"And I'll tell you who beggared you before all is over--but, as I said, listen. It's now fifteen years since Brian M'Loughlin transported my son d.i.c.k, for stealin' a horse from him; he was my only son, barrin' poor Raymond, who was then a mere slip. He was a fine young man, but he was wild and wicked, and it was in Squire Deaker's house, and about Squire Deaker's stables, that he picked up his dishonesty and love of horses--he was groom to that ould profligate, who took him into sarvice for a raison he had."

"Be as brief as you can," said Harman, "brief--brief."

"On the contrary, Mr. Harman," said Clement, "let her, if you will be advised by me, take her own time, and her own way."

"Thank you, sir," said Poll, "that's just what I wish. Well, he, M'Loughlin, transported my boy, that my heart was in, and from that minute I swore never to die till I'd revenge that act upon him. Very well--I kept my word. Phil M'Clutchy sent for me, and in his father's presence, we made up a plot to disgrace Miss M'Loughlin. I brought her out two or three times to meet me privately, and it was all on your account, by the way, for I tould her you were in danger; and I so contrived it, that on one or two occasions you should see myself and her together. I made her promise solemnly not to tell that she saw me, or mention what pa.s.sed between us, or if she did, that your life was not safe; her love for you, kept her silent even to yourself. But it was when you were sent to gaol, that we found we had the best opportunity of ruining her, which was all I wanted: but Phil, the boy, wished to give you a stab as well as her. As for myself it was in for a penny, in for a pound with me, and I didn't care a traheen what you suffered, provided I had my revenge on any one belongin' to Brian M'Loughlin, that transported my son."

"Is Mary M'Loughlin innocent?" asked Harman, starting from his seat, and placing his face within a few inches of Poll Doolin's.

Poll calmly put her hand upon his shoulder, and said:--

"Sit down, young man; don't disturb or stop me in what I'm sayin', and you'll come the sooner at the truth."

"You are right," he replied, "but who can blame me?--my happiness depends on it."

"Listen," said she, "we made up a plan that she was to meet Phil behind her father's garden--and why? Why, because I told her that Val had made up his mind to hang you; but I said that Phil, for her sake, could prevent that, and save you, if she would only see him that he might clear himself of some reports that had gone abroad on him. For your sake she consented to that; but not until I had brought her nearly to despair, and till she believed that there was no other hope for you.

It was Val M'Clutchy, though, that put me up to bring several of the neighbors, and among the rest your own cousin, to witness the trick of Phil's gettin' in at the windy; as it was his to bring the bloodhounds, at the very minute, to catch the scoundrel in the poor girl's bedroom.

That was enough; all the wather in the say couldn't wash her white, when this was given to the tongue of scandal to work upon."