The Absentee (21 page)

That he might see and hear more than he could as heir-apparent to
the estate, he sent his servant to Dublin to wait for him there. He
travelled INCOGNITO, wrapped himself in a shabby greatcoat, and took the
name of Evans. He arrived at a village, or, as it was called, a town,
which bore the name of Colambre. He was agreeably surprised by the air
of neat—ness and finish in the houses and in the street, which had
a nicely-swept paved footway. He slept at a small but excellent
inn—excellent, perhaps, because it was small, and proportioned to
the situation and business of the place. Good supper, good bed, good
attendance; nothing out of repair; no things pressed into services
for what they were never intended by nature or art; none of what are
vulgarly called MAKE-SHIFTS. No chambermaid slipshod, or waiter smelling
of whisky; but all tight and right, and everybody doing their own
business, and doing it as if it was their everyday occupation, not as
if it was done by particular desire, for first or last time this season.
The landlord came in at supper to inquire whether anything was wanted.
Lord Colambre took this opportunity of entering into conversation
with him, and asked him to whom the town belonged, and who were the
proprietors of the neighbouring estates.

'The town belongs to an absentee lord—one Lord Clonbrony, who lives
always beyond the seas, in London; and never seen the town since it was
a town, to call a town.'

'And does the land in the neighbourhood belong to this Lord Clonbrony?'

'It does, sir; he's a great proprietor, but knows nothing of his
property, nor of us. Never set foot among us, to my knowledge, since I
was as high as the table. He might as well be a West India planter, and
we negroes, for anything he knows to the contrary—has no more care, nor
thought about us, than if he were in Jamaica, or the other world. Shame
for him!—But there's too many to keep him in countenance.'

Lord Colambre asked him what wine he could have; and then inquired who
managed the estate for this absentee.

'Mr. Burke, sir. And I don't know why God was so kind to give so good an
agent to an absentee like Lord Clonbrony, except it was for the sake of
us, who is under him, and knows the blessing, and is thankful for the
same.'

'Very good cutlets,' said Lord Colambre.

'I am happy to hear it, sir. They have a right to be good, for Mrs.
Burke sent her own cook to teach my wife to dress cutlets.'

'So the agent is a good agent, is he?'

'He is, thanks be to Heaven! And that's what few can boast, especially
when the landlord's living over the seas: we have the luck to have got a
good agent over us, in Mr. Burke, who is a right bred gentleman; a snug
little property of his own, honestly made; with the good will and good
wishes, and respect of all.'

'Does he live in the neighbourhood?'

'Just CONVANIENT
(CONVENIENT: near.)
At the end of the town; in the
house on the hill, as you passed, sir; to the left, with the trees about
it, all of his planting, finely grown too—for there's a blessing on all
he does, and he has done a deal.—There's salad, sir, if you are partial
to it. Very fine lettuce. Mrs. Burke sent us the plants herself.'

'Excellent salad! So this Mr. Burke has done a great deal, has he? In
what way!'

'In every way, sir—sure was not it he that had improved, and fostered,
and made the town of Colambre?—no thanks to the proprietor, nor to the
young man whose name it bears, neither!'

'Have you any porter, pray, sir?'

'We have, sir, as good, I hope, as you'd drink in London, for it's the
same you get there, I understand, from Cork. And I have some of my own
brewing, which, they say, you could not tell the difference between it
and Cork quality—if you'd be pleased to try. Harry, the corkscrew.'

The porter of his own brewing was pronounced to be extremely good; and
the landlord observed it was Mr. Burke encouraged him to learn to brew,
and lent him his own brewer for a time to teach him.

'Your Mr. Burke, I find, is APROPOS to porter, APROPOS to salad, APROPOS
to cutlets, APROPOS to everything,' said Lord Colambre, smiling;
'he seems to be a NON-PAREIL of an agent. I suppose you are a great
favourite of his, and you do what you please with him?'

'Oh no, sir, I could not say that; Mr. Burke does not have favourites
anyway; but according to my deserts, I trust, I stand well enough with
him, for, in truth, he is a right good agent.'

Lord Colambre still pressed for particulars; he was an Englishman, and a
stranger, he said, and did not exactly know what was meant in Ireland by
a good agent.

'Why, he is the man that will encourage the improving tenant; and show
no favour or affection, but justice, which comes even to all, and does
best for all at the long run; and, residing always in the country,
like Mr. Burke, and understanding country business, and going about
continually among the tenantry, he knows when to press for the rent, and
when to leave the money to lay out upon the land; and, according as they
would want it, can give a tenant a help or a check properly. Then no
duty-work called for, no presents, nor GLOVE-MONEY, nor SEALING-MONEY
even, taken or offered; no underhand hints about proposals, when land
would be out of lease, but a considerable preference, if desArved, to
the old tenant, and if not, a fair advertisement, and the best offer and
tenant accepted; no screwing of the land to the highest penny, just to
please the head landlord for the minute, and ruin him at the end, by the
tenant's racking the land, and running off with the year's rent; nor
no bargains to his own relations or friends did Mr. Burke ever give or
grant, but all fair between landlord and tenant; and that's the thing
that will last; and that's what I call the good agent.'

Lord Colambre poured out a glass of wine, and begged the innkeeper to
drink the good agent's health, in which he was heartily pledged. 'I
thank your honour;—Mr. Burke's health! and long may he live over and
amongst us; he saved me from drink and ruin, when I was once inclined to
it, and made a man of me and all my family.'

The particulars we cannot stay to detail: this grateful man, however,
took pleasure in sounding the praises of his benefactor, and in raising
him in the opinion of the traveller.

'As you've time, and are curious about such things, sir, perhaps you'd
walk up to the school that Mrs. Burke has for the poor children; and
look at the market-house, and see how clean he takes a pride to keep the
town; and any house in the town, from the priest to the parson's, that
you'd go into, will give you the same character as I do of Mr. Burke:
from the brogue to the boot, all speak the same of him, and can say no
other. God for ever bless and keep him over us!'

Upon making further inquiries, everything the innkeeper had said
was confirmed by different inhabitants of the village. Lord Colambre
conversed with the shopkeepers, with the cottagers; and, without making
any alarming inquiries, he obtained all the information he wanted. He
went to the village school—a pretty, cheerful house, with a neat
garden and a play-green; met Mrs. Burke; introduced himself to her as
a traveller. The school was shown to him: it was just what it ought
to be—neither too much nor too little had been attempted; there was
neither too much interference nor too little attention. Nothing for
exhibition; care to teach well, without any vain attempt to teach in a
wonderfully short time. All that experience proves to be useful, in
both Dr. Bell's and Mr. Lancaster's modes of teaching, Mrs. Burke had
adopted; leaving it to 'graceless zealots' to fight about the rest.
That no attempts at proselytism had been made, and that no illiberal
distinctions had been made in this school, Lord Colambre was convinced,
in the best manner possible, by seeing the children of Protestants and
Catholics sitting on the same benches, learning from the same books, and
speaking to one another with the same cordial familiarity. Mrs. Burke
was an unaffected, sensible woman, free from all party prejudices, and,
without ostentation, desirous and capable of doing good. Lord Colambre
was much pleased with her, and very glad that she invited him to dinner.

Mr. Burke did not come in till late; for he had been detained portioning
out some meadows, which were of great consequence to the inhabitants of
the town. He brought home to dine with him the clergyman and the priest
of the parish, both of whom he had taken successful pains to accommodate
with the land which suited their respective convenience. The good terms
on which they seemed to be with each other, and with him, appeared to
Lord Colambre to do honour to Mr. Burke. All the favourable accounts his
lordship had received of this gentleman were confirmed by what he saw
and heard. After the clergyman and priest had taken leave, upon Lord
Colambre's expressing some surprise, mixed with satisfaction, at seeing
the harmony which subsisted between them, Mr. Burke assured him that
this was the same in many parts of Ireland. He observed, that 'as the
suspicion of ill-will never fails to produce it,' so he had often
found, that taking it for granted that no ill-will exists has the most
conciliating effect. He said, to please opposite parties, he used no
arts; but he tried to make all his neighbours live comfortably together,
by making them acquainted with each other's good qualities; by giving
them opportunities of meeting sociably, and, from time to time, of doing
each other little services and good offices. 'Fortunately, he had so
much to do,' he said, 'that he had no time for controversy. He was a
plain man, made it a rule not to meddle with speculative points, and to
avoid all irritating discussions; he was not to rule the country, but to
live in it, and make others live as happily as he could.'

Having nothing to conceal in his character, opinions, or circumstances,
Mr. Burke was perfectly open and unreserved in his manner and
conversation; freely answered all the traveller's inquiries, and took
pains to show him everything he desired to see. Lord Colambre said he
had thoughts of settling in Ireland; and declared, with truth, that he
had not seen any part of the country he should like better to live in
than this neighbourhood. He went over most of the estate with Mr. Burke,
and had ample opportunities of convincing himself that this gentleman
was indeed, as the innkeeper had described him, 'a right good gentleman,
and a right good agent.'

He paid Mr. Burke some just compliments on the state of the tenantry,
and the neat and flourishing appearance of the town of Colambre.

'What pleasure it will give the proprietor when he sees all you have
done!' said Lord Colambre.

'Oh, sir, don't speak of it!—that breaks my heart, he never has shown
the least interest in anything I have done; he is quite dissatisfied
with me, because I have not ruined his tenantry, by forcing them to pay
more than the land is worth; because I have not squeezed money from them
by fining down rents; and—but all this, as an Englishman, sir, must be
unintelligible to you. The end of the matter is, that, attached as I am
to this place and the people about me, and, as I hope, the tenantry are
to me—I fear I shall be obliged to give up the agency.'

'Give up the agency! How so?—you must not,' cried Lord Colambre, and,
for the moment, he forgot himself; but Mr. Burke took this only for an
expression of good-will.

'I must, I am afraid,' continued he. 'My employer, Lord Clonbrony, is
displeased with me—continual calls for money come upon me from England,
and complaints of my slow remittances.'

'Perhaps Lord Clonbrony is in embarrassed circumstances said Lord
Colambre.

'I never speak of my employer's affairs, sir,' replied Mr. Burke; now
for the first time assuming an air of reserve.

'I beg pardon, sir—I seem to have asked an indiscreet question.' Mrs.
Burke was silent.

'Lest my reserve should give you a false impression, I will add, sir,'
resumed Mr. Burke, 'that I really am not acquainted with the state
of his lordship's affairs in general. I know only what belongs to the
estate under my own management. The principal part of his lordship's
property, the Clonbrony estate, is under another agent, Mr. Garraghty.'

'Garraghty!' repeated Lord Colambre; 'what sort of a person is he? But
I may take it for granted, that it cannot fall to the lot of one and the
same absentee to have two such agents as Mr. Burke.'

Mr. Burke bowed, and seemed pleased by the compliment, which he knew he
deserved—but not a word did he say of Mr. Garraghty; and Lord Colambre,
afraid of betraying himself by some other indiscreet question, changed
the conversation.

That very night the post brought a letter to Mr. Burke, from Lord
Clonbrony, which Mr. Burke gave to his wife as soon as he had read it,
saying—

'See the reward of all my services!'

Mrs. Burke glanced her eye over the letter, and, being extremely fond
of her husband, and sensible of his deserving far different treatment,
burst into indignant exclamations—

'See the reward of all your services, indeed!—What an unreasonable,
ungrateful man!—So, this is the thanks for all you have done for Lord
Clonbrony!'

'He does not know what I have done, my dear. He never has seen what I
have done.'

'More shame for him!'

'He never, I suppose, looks over his accounts, or understands them.'

'More shame for him!'

He listens to foolish reports, or misrepresentations, perhaps. He is at
a distance, and cannot find out the truth.'

'More shame for him!'

'Take it quietly, my dear; we have the comfort of a good conscience. The
agency may be taken from me by this lord; but the sense of having done
my duty, no lord or man upon earth can give or take away.'

'Such a letter!' said Mrs. Burke, taking it up again. 'Not even
the civility to write with his own hand!—only his signature to the
scrawl—looks as if it was written by a drunken man, does not it, Mr.
Evans?' said she, showing the letter to Lord Colambre, who immediately
recognised the writing of Sir Terence O'Fay.