The House
Where The Eviction Was To Be Held Was A Miserable Hovel, Whose Roof Did
Not Amount To Much, Sitting Among Untilled Fields, With A Small Dung
Heap Before The Door.
It was shut up, silent and deserted.
The bailiff, a gentleman who, if ever he is accused of crime, will not
find his face plead for him much, broke open the door and began to throw
out the furniture on the heap before the door. Here are the items: One
iron pot, one rusty tin pail, two delf bowls, - I noticed them
particularly, for they rolled down the dungheap on the side where I
stood, - one rheumatic chest, one rickety table, one armful of
disreputable straw, and one ragged coverlet. This was supposed to be the
bed, for I saw no bedstead; there was no chair, no stool, or seat of any
kind. The sub-sheriff with the bailiff's assistance fastened the door
with a padlock. He handed the agent a tuft of grass as giving him
possession, and the eviction was over.
The agent - a large-featured man - seemed undecided as to whether he would
view the transaction in a humorous light or as a scene where he was
chief sufferer. He came forward and offered some rambling remarks
addressed to nobody in particular. He drew our attention to the
condition of the roof which needed renewing, to the fields that were
uncropped. This was certainly shiftless, but when he mentioned that the
man had gone to England "in the scarcity" to look for work, and was
lying sick in an English hospital, we did not see how he could help it.
He told us how bad the man was; how he pitied his wife, who was, he
said, worse than himself. She was not present, being from home when her
poor furniture was pitched out. He lamented over the fact that this man
had sent him nothing of his wages, while another man had sent him as
much as thirty pounds. He then went into details of these evicted
tenant's married life; how his wife and he lived, and how they agreed;
and rambled off into general philosophic remarks rather disagreeable and
nasty.
No one seemed to pay any attention, although he looked from one to
another for an answering smile of appreciation to his funny attempts to
justify himself and amuse his hearers. Some one asked him how much rent
was due; he said ten or eleven years. Two years were due, as we found by
the law papers on returning to Ballina. He then made an attack on the
poor men standing there, asking why they were not at home working, and
telling them what they should be doing. While he lectured these men in a
joking voice, he turned his eye from one to another of those present as
if he were seeking for applause.
These men, not heeding the agent, were presenting a petition to the sub-
sheriff. I drew near to learn what it was. They were thin, listless
looking witted men. One could not help wondering when they had last
eaten a square meal. Half-starved in look, wretched in clothing, stood
like criminals awaiting sentence, with dreadfully eager eyes and parched
lips that would not draw together over their teeth, before the plump
rosy sub-sheriff. They asked for some meal on credit which the sub-
sheriff refused. I asked them if they owed any rent. No, they did not
owe a penny of rent, they said. Remember there was only one harvest
between them and the famine year. They had also put in the crops in
their little holdings, they said, "but as God lives we have neither bite
nor sup to keep us till harvest time." The sub-sheriff asked why they
did not go to a certain dealer. They said the terms were so hard that
they could never pay him. "How much would keep you till the crops come
in," he asked. Two hundred of Indian meal for each they said. Finally he
promised them one hundred each on credit, even if he had to pay it out
of his own pocket. "That is what you will have to do," said the agent.
We left and drove home. We saw the police, hot and tired, march past to
their barracks after our return. These men had a long march, loaded down
with arms to protect the bailiff, the stalwart agent, the rosy sub-
sheriff from a crowd of five hunger-bitten peaceable men and three
ragged women. The whole crowd might have been put to flight by any one
of the three with one hand tied behind him.
I forgot to mention that the agent offered to one of the women there all
the tenant's poor things that were thrown out, which was an honest and
honorable proceeding on his part, and very generous.
XXXIII.
A SEVERE CRITICISM JUSTIFIED - PROCESS SERVING BY THE AID OF THE POLICE -
THE WHITE HORSE OF MAYO - PEASANT PROPRIETORSHIP.
I am glad to see by the papers that the state of the workhouse at Manor
Hamilton has been censured by the doctors, and deliberated about at a
meeting of guardians. It is certainly the worst conducted workhouse I
have seen as yet in Ireland, and it says with a loud voice, woe to the
poor who enter here. It was told me on this twenty-seventh day of May
that if I really wanted to see a disturbance a serious collision was
apprehended between the constabulary and the people, at some distance
from Ballina. I have been led to distrust the accounts of disturbances
that appear in the papers, or at least to admit them with caution. I was
assured that now at least I should see the wild men of Mayo, for they
had assaulted the process server and stripped him of his clothing,
taking his processes from him, some days before, and they would be out
in thousands this day to oppose the serving of the processes.
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