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Lady Morgan’s Memoirs
Sir Malby Crofton to Lady Morgan, 22 March 1856
INTRODUCTION & INDEXES
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Preface
Vol. I Contents.
Prefatory Address
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Vol. I Index
Vol. II Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter IV
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVI
Chapter XXXVII
Chapter XXXVIII
Chapter XXXIX
Chapter XL
Vol. II Index
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Longford House,
Beltha Collooney,
March 22, 1856.
My dear Lady Morgan,

Accept my best thanks for your kind letter, to which various engagements have prevented my giving an earlier reply.

Believe me, it is our house which should be proud of a kinswoman who, having fought her way to fame, as you have, is willing to remember her friends of “long ago,” even to the romps with “little Malby,” who, for his part recollects well, one whose name has been a household word at Longford. You desire a history of the Croftons since you were among us; it would be tedious to any one else; should it prove so to you, you must only confess that you provoked it. To begin with the title. It was discovered, some time after my grandfather’s death, by the Herald at Arms, that we were descended from the next brother of the first baronet, and not from the first baronet himself, to whose male issue that patent limited the title. This was a great trouble to us at Longford, and a surprise
FALL OF THE LEAVES.531
to the whole family, among whom there never had been any doubt as to my grandfather’s right to the title; but there was no help for it, and after an effort to obtain a revival of the original grant, my father had to put up with a new patent, so that now, although I am the acknowledged head of a family numbering in it one baron, and, including Lord Crofton’s baronetcy, three baronets, my title dates later than any of the others. You are too Irish to laugh at this trifle being deemed a grievance; but here, by the shores of the Atlantic, where little questions of precedence still at times arise, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to be obliged to make way for those who ought, as they used, to follow us.

My father died six years ago. I myself have left to me three sons and three daughters.

Now for the Longford estates. Longeuth, I believe, is the Irish for it. When this latter passed into Longford, I am unable to discover; but am disposed to think that the first Crofton possessor changed the name—so much for the name. The estate itself is the same as it was,—very large. Since the troubles of 1668, we have not parted with an acre of it, nor are we likely to do so. Thanks to the Encumbered Estate Court, which gave every facility for selling Irish estates when, from the condition of the country they were least valuable; many an ancient family has been pressed out of home and fortune. One family (some of the members of which you must have known) the Percivals, of Temple House, in this county, must, I fear, transfer to strangers an estate which they ac-
532 LADY MORGAN'S MEMOIR.  
quired by intermarriage with us; but God, who gave us the property (you remember the motto “Dat dens incrementum”), still permits the Croftons of Longford to hold their own. They do little more, however, than hold their own, for the family exchequer has never been full enough to rebuild the house, the scene, dear Lady Morgan, of our romps, which was burned down in my father’s time; but though the old house is a ruin, there has grown up beside it, by little and little. a house reasonably large and comfortable. That would be a welcome day to it, and its inhabitants, on which you would come and visit us; you would find the chapel as in your youth, and beside it, the home of Friar John Crofton “Comitesque flavicomæ,” the companion which good-natured people represent to have been a fox—the ill-natured, as a nymph, with golden hair.

Time has eaten away the trunks of the Longford pearmain, the original Crofton apple; and it is said, but I don’t believe it, that with the decay of the original stocks, the apple has universally degenerated.

If ever I have the opportunity, the “Irish Harp” may rely upon a call; but as I seldom leave home, I will, for this once act, if you will permit me, by deputy. Should my son and his bride be in London in June, as is probable, I promise he shall pay his respects to you, and I trust you may esteem him worthy of the ancient stock. Grateful of your kind recollection of me and mine,

Believe me, dear Lady Morgan,
Very sincerely yours,
M. Crofton.