The Poor Scholar Part 14

"Carson, you are sober and prudent. Well about these cursed pet.i.tions; you must help me to dispose of them. Why, a man would think by the tenor of them, that these tenants of mine are ground to dust by a tyrant."

"Ah! Colonel, you know little about these fellows. They would make black white. Go and take a ride, sir, return about four o'clock, and I will have everything as it ought to be."

"I wish to heaven, Carson, I had your talents for business. Do you think my tenants attached to me?"

"Attached! sir, they are ready to cut your throat or mine, on the first convenient opportunity. You could not conceive their knavishness and dishonesty, except you happened to be an agent for a few years.

"So I have been told, and I am resolved to remove every dishonest tenant from my estate. Is there not a man, for instance, called Brady? He has sent me a long-winded pet.i.tion here. What do you think of him?"

"Show me the pet.i.tion, Colonel."

"I cannot lay my hand on it just now; but you shall see it. In the mean time, what's your opinion of the fellow?"

"Brady! Why, I know the man particularly well. He is one of my favorites. What the deuce could the fellow pet.i.tion about, though? I promised the other day to renew his lease for him."

"Oh, then, if he be a favorite of yours, his pet.i.tion may go to the devil, I suppose? Is the man honest?"

"Remarkably so; and has paid his rents very punctually. He is one of our safest tenants."

"Do you know a man called Cullen?"

"The most litigious scoundrel on the estate."

"Indeed? Oh, then, we must look into the merits of his pet.i.tion, as he is not honest. Had he been honest like Brady, Carson, I should have dismissed it."

"Cullen, sir, is a dangerous fellow. Do you know, that rascal has charged me with keeping back his receipts, and with making I him pay double rent!--ha, ha, ha! Upon my honor, its fact."

"The scoundrel! We shall sift him to some purpose, however."

"If you take my advice, sir, you will send him about his business; for if it be once known that you listen to malicious pet.i.tions, my authority over such villains as Cullen is lost."

"Well, I set him aside for the present. Here's a long list of others, all of whom have been oppressed, forsooth. Is there a man called M'Evoy on my estate?--Dominick M'Evoy, I think."

"M'Evoy! Why that rascal, sir, has not been your tenant for ten years?

His pet.i.tion, Colonel, is a key to the nature of their grievances in general."

"I believe you, Carson--most implicitly do I believe that. Well, about that rascal?"

"Why, it is so long since, that upon my honor, I cannot exactly remember the circ.u.mstances of his misconduct. He ran away."

"Who is in his farm now, Carson?"

"A very decent man, sir. One Jackson, an exceedingly worthy, honest, industrious fellow. I take some credit to myself for bringing Jackson on your estate."

"Is Jackson married? Has he a family?"

"Married! Let me see! Why--yes--I believe he is. Oh, by the by, now I think of it, he is married, and to a very respectable woman, too.

Certainly, I remember--she usually accompanies him when he pays his rents."

"Then your system must be a good one, Carson; you weed out the idle and profligate, to replace them by the honest and industrious."

"Precisely so, sir; that is my system."

"Yet there are agents who invert your system in some cases; who drive out the honest and industrious, and encourage the idle and profligate; who connive at them, Carson, and fill the estates they manage with their own dependents, or relatives, as the case may be. You have been alway's opposed to this, and I'm glad to hear it."

"No man, Colonel B------, filling the situation which I have the honor to hold under you, could study your interests with greater zeal and a.s.siduity. G.o.d knows, I have had so many quarrels, and feuds, and wranglings, with these fellows, in order to squeeze money out of them to meet your difficulties, that, upon my honor, I think if it required five dozen oaths to hang me, they could be procured upon your estate. An agent, Colonel, who is faithful to the landlord, is seldom popular with the tenants."

"I can't exactly see that, Carson; and I have known an unpopular landlord rendered highly popular by the judicious management of an enlightened and honest agent, who took no bribes, Carson, and who neither extorted from nor ground the tenantry under him--something like a counterpart of yourself. But you may be right in general."

"Is there anything particular, Colonel, in which I can a.s.sist you now?"

"Not now. I was anxious to hear the character of those fellows from you who know them. Come down about eleven or twelve o'clock; these pet.i.tioners will be a.s.sembled, and you may be able to a.s.sist me."

"Colonel, remember I forewarn you, that you are plunging into a mesh of difficulties, which you will never be able to disentangle. Leave the fellows to me, sir; I know how to deal with them. Besides, upon my honor, you are not equal to it, in point of health. You look ill. Pray allow me to take home their papers, and I shall have all clear and satisfactory before two o'clock. They know my method, sir."

"They do, Carson, they do; but I am anxious they should also know mine.

Besides, it will amuse me, for I want excitement. Good day, for the present; you will be down about twelve, or one at the furthest."

"Certainly, sir. Good morning, Colonel."

The agent was too shrewd a man not to perceive that there were touches of cutting irony in some of the Colonel's expressiqns, which he did not like. There was a dryness, too, in the tone of his voice and words, blended with a copiousness of good humor, which, taken altogether, caused him to feel uncomfortable. He could have wished the Colonel at the devil: yet had the said Colonel never been more familiar in his life, nor, with one or two exceptions, readier to agree with almost every observation made to him.

"Well," thought he, "he may act as he pleases; I have feathered my nest, at all events, and disregard him."

Colonel B-----, in fact, ascertained with extreme regret, that something was necessary to be done, to secure the good-will of his tenants; that the conduct of his agent had been marked by rapacity and bribery almost incredible. He had exacted from the tenantry in general the performance of duty-labor to such an extent, that his immense agricultural farms were managed with little expense to himself. If a poor man's corn were drop ripe, or his hay in a precarious state, or his turf undrawn, he must suffer his oats, hay, and turf, to be lost, in order to secure the crops of the agent. If he had spirit to refuse, he must expect to become a martyr to his resentment. In renewing leases his extortions were exorbitant; ten, thirty, forty, and fifty guineas he claimed as a fee for his favor, according to the ability of the party; yet this was quite distinct from the renewal tine, and went into his own pocket. When such "glove money" was not to be had, he would accept of a cow or horse, to which he usually made a point to take a fancy; or he wanted to purchase a firkin of b.u.t.ter at that particular time; and the poor people usually made every sacrifice to avoid his vengeance. It is due to Colonel B------ to say, that he acted in the investigation of his agent's conduct with the strictest honor and impartiality. He scrutinized every statement thoroughly, pleaded for him as temperately as he could; found, or pretended to find, extenuating motives for his most indefensible proceedings; but all would not do. The cases were so clear and evident against him, even in the opinion of the neighboring gentry, who had been for years looking upon the system of selfish misrule which he practised, that at length the generous Colonel's blood boiled with indignation in his veins at the contemplation of his villany. He accused himself bitterly for neglecting his duties as a landlord, and felt both remorse and shame for having wasted his time, health, and money, in the fas.h.i.+onable dissipation of London and Paris; whilst a cunning, unprincipled upstart played the vampire with his tenants, and turned his estate into a scene of oppression and poverty. Nor was this all; he had been endeavoring to bring the property more and more into his own clutches, a point which he would ultimately have gained, had not the Colonel's late succession to so large a fortune enabled him to meet his claims.

At one o'clock the tenants were all a.s.sembled about the inn door, where the Colonel had resolved to hold his little court. The agent himself soon arrived, as did several other gentlemen, the Colonel's friends, who knew the people and could speak to their character.

The first man called was Dominick M'Evoy. No sooner was his name uttered, than a mild, poor-looking man, rather advanced in years, came forward.

"I beg your pardon, Colonel," said Carson, "here is some mistake; this man is not one of your tenants. You may remember I told you so this morning."

"I remember it," replied the Colonel; "this is 'the rascal' you spoke of--is he not? M'Evoy," the Colonel proceeded, "you will reply to my questions with strict truth. You will state nothing but what has occurred between you and my agent; you must not even turn a circ.u.mstance in your own favor, nor against Mr. Carson, by either adding to, or taking away from it, more or less than the truth. I say this to you, and to all present; for, upon my honor, I shall dismiss the first case in which I discover a falsehood."

"Wid the help o' the Almighty, sir, I'll state nothing but the bare thruth."

"How long are you off my estate?"

"Ten years, your honor, or a little more."

"How came you to run away out of your farm?"

"Run away, your honor! Grod he knows, I didn't run away, sir. The whole counthry knows that."

"Yes, ran away! Mr. Carson, here, stated to me this morning, that you ran away. He is a gentleman of integrity, and would not state a falsehood."

"I beg your pardon, Colonel, not positively. I told you I did not exactly remember the circ.u.mstances; I said I thought so; but I may be wrong, for, indeed, my memory of facts is not good. M'Evoy, however, is a very honest man, and I have no doubt will state everything as it happened, fairly and without malice."