The Irish problem/Landlord and tenant in England
IV.
LANDLORD AND TENANT IN ENGLAND.
"We have recently discussed in these columns the relations to each other of landlord and tenant in Ireland, and we feel that we could not better supplement the articles which dealt with that topic than by detailing to the readers of the Tyrone Constitution the substance of some observations and enquiries which we have recently made in a northern county in England, respecting small farms and their management there. "We had an opportunity of prosecuting enquiries on two adjacent properties, both belonging to excellent and business-like landlords; and from the agent of one of them, a gentleman in every way suited for his position, We gained, the following information:—
On the property which he represented there were few leases. The bulk of the tenants held by a regular form of Written (or rather printed) agreement from year to year. There were farms of varying sizes, say from nine statute acres to a hundred or upwards. Part of the soil (lying on a bed of coal) was of a black, sandy, loamy nature. The hilly ground Was a heavy clay. The rental varied from 35s to £2 and £3 per statute acre: that of the sandy loam being higher than the heavy clay, and the amount per acre being also higher in proportion to the smallness of the farm.—For instance, a certain farm of nine statute acres on heavy, stiff land paid an amount equivalent to about £2 10s. per statute acre; while another—a forty-acre farm—with the same soil, paid only £1 15s. A third farm of ten statute acres, without buildings, the soil a stiff clay, let at £1 10s. per acre.
We now proceed to give the reason for these differences.
Unlike the Irish usage, the farm buildings, for the most part, were erected, not by the tenant, but by the landlord. They were handed over by the latter in a state of tenantable repair, and materials in the rough were, when necessary, supplied to the tenant to keep them so. In cases where the buildings were old at the commencement of a tenancy, it was usual for the landlord to agree to keep them wind and water tight, for in this case the tenant would otherwise be at a disadvantage as compared with one who entered into new buildings which would stand in little need of repair.
In cases where there was a lease, if the land has let at a high rent, the landlord would erect any necessary new building, even during the continuance of the lease without extra charge. But if the rent was low, he would charge from 5 to 7½ per cent, on the outlay. On the small farms—say of nine or ten acres, let as high as £3 per acre for the best soil—the landlord thatched and otherwise repaired the dwelling-house, the tenant repairing the offices. If a new house were wanted on an unleased farm of this size, the landlord would build it, entering into a new contract with the tenant, and charging interest on his outlay, subject to the same modifications as in a leased farm. If the tenant wished to build himself, he would be allowed to do so, if he would build in accordance with the "office plans." In this case he would receive back half of his expenditure if he left in five years, but nothing if he remained in occupation over ten years. It was very seldom, however, that tenants did build for themselves; and we must in frankness add, that we can scarcely wonder at it, when their interest in a work of so permanent a nature was made, by the terms of their annual contract with the landlord, to expire so soon. When drainage was required, the landlord on this estate supplied the tiles; the drains were opened and filled by the tenant, subject in all cases to the approval of the office. On the neighbouring estate only the shoughing tiles—i.e., for ditches or "shoughs" being filled in—were supplied by the landlord.
Such a thing as payment for the tenant's goodwill did not exist on the estate. We may add that the district of which we have been speaking is a rural one. The ordinary yield per acre of oats was stated to us by a farmer to be about 150 stones; that of potatoes, about 5 tons on the low ground The course of cropping we give from the statement of a holder of 16 statute acres, who paid about £2 10s an acre as rent: —
First year, wheat; second, "wuts" {Anglice, oats); third, "we maws" {i.e., mow clover and grass seed); fourth, "pluff'." (By a happy thought it occurred to us that "pluff" meant plough—viz., for potatoes and turnips.)
Our friend had a lease on a life He kept a horse big enough to eat two of our little "garrons" for his breakfast. The horse and his harness were both in a shining condition, which would make some of our gentry open their eyes, let alone our farmers. Two cows and a sturk constituted his dairy stock. He did not "go in for" profit off poultry. Butter fetched in the neighbouring market about 1s 4d per lb. at present. It had been as high as 1s 9d.
We feel sure that our farmer-readers have not failed to remark on the rent paid by this holder of sixteen acres. "With some £20 or so of rent to pay more than they would have to do, they might expect that his house would look a bit bare. Par from it. Here is the kitchen:—A nicely sanded stone floor; a well-polished kitchen range; four presses and cupboards, with their brass knobs all shining; at each side of the fire a rocking arm chair with chintz cushions, scrupulously clean; a sofa, ditto; a little cosy round tea-table, with a white cloth on it, and a larger table hinged up against the wall when not in use; pictures on the walls, which were colour-washed; a long latticed window with three lights, and enlivened with pots of geranium; the lookout, not on a dunghill or a dirty yard, but on a gooseberry garden, bordered with flower plots. It was " cleaning-up day," and the daughter of the house apologised for the litter.—Litter!—We could have bit our lips through with vexation when we thought of the litter which a similar occasion would present on this side of the water. Why, it only consisted of a string of very cleanly washed clothes across the room, and well above our heads, and a pile of brass and tin utensils near the fire-place, which she had finished rubbing so bright that they shone again. And the comely lass who had made this " litter" was clad in a coloured cotton bedgown, striped linsey petticoat, and clean, though coarse, white apron. No dirt. Not the faintest appearance of a tatter or a tear. The pig was in his own proper abode, the poultry were in theirs, and—part of the secret of so clean a kitchen—there was a scullery, where all the dirty work was done. But that, on the occasion of our (unexpected) visit, was clean too.
From all we witnessed here, and all that we had previously heard and have already detailed, a variety of reflections arose within us.
The first was—Why do so many of our Irish small farmers fall short—too often lamentably short—of this picture of tidyness and comfort? It can't be want of leases, or want of security of tenure in some other form; for the chief ingredients to comfort which we have named are such as would be at the command of a family which had a positive certainty that it would have to quit the premises in a twelvemonth. It can't be want of means; for the English working-farmer, with nearly twice the rent to pay, ought to be the poorest of the two. The English land may be something more productive; but from such comparison of soils as we have made, we would prefer to lay that to the score of cleaner fields, and of richer manure, arising from a more generous system of feeding to the beasts: and we would also remark that the system of growing two similar crops in succession on the same land is absolutely unknown there.
Though we write from the landlord point of view, we feel no pang of envy of our landlord friends in England with their £2 10s per acre—a price which would pay us right well here even if we did all the building, draining, and so forth for our tenants. But we do feel a pang of regret at the thought that, from whatever cause, so many of our Irish small farmers, in place of being better of with their moderate rents, are worse off; and^ in many respects stand at a lower level of civilization than their fellows in England. The traveller in the present day, when he turns to the pages of Fyne's Morrison's Itinerary," written two centuries and a-half ago, cannot fail to be struck with the fact, that—being then, according to his account, far in arrear of their neighbours—the Irish people have not since made that effort which is requisite to make up the lee way which they have lost.
Earnestly anxious though we are to see every reasonable security given to the Irish tenant-farmer, so that he may have every possible inducement to improve his farm and improve his own position we are as earnestly convinced that in many an individual case, and in many a wide-spread district, such security will be but the mere A B C of national progress. Other means are needed to reform the whole habits of a people. Can Mr. Bright solve this problem?