Disturbed Ireland | Page 6

the serving of notices upon Lord Erne's tenants. All the
weight of the tenants' vengeance has fallen upon the unfortunate agent,
whom the irritated people declare they will "hunt out of the country."
The position is an extraordinary one. During his period of occupation
Mr. Boycott has laid out a great deal of money on his farm, has
improved the roads, and made turnips and other root crops to grow
where none grew before. But the country side has struck against him,
and he is now actually in a state of siege. Personally attended by an
armed escort everywhere, he has a garrison of ten constables on his
premises, some established in a hut, and the rest in that part of Lough
Mask House adjacent to the old castle. Garrisoned at home and
escorted abroad, Mr. Boycott and his family are now reduced to one
female domestic. Everybody else has gone away, protesting sorrow, but
alleging that the power brought to bear upon them was greater than
they could resist. Farm labourers, workmen, herds-men, stablemen, all
went long ago, leaving the corn standing, the horses in the stable, the

sheep in the field, the turnips, swedes, carrots, and potatoes in the
ground, where I saw them yesterday. Last Tuesday the laundress
refused to wash for the family any longer; the baker at Ballinrobe is
afraid to supply them with bread, and the butcher fears to send them
meat. The state of siege is perfect.
When the strike first began Mr. Boycott went bravely to work with his
family, setting the young ladies to reaping and binding, and looking
after the beasts and sheep himself. But the struggle is nearly at an end
now. Mr. Boycott has sold some of his stock; but he can neither sell his
crop to anybody else, nor, as they say in the North of England, "win" it
for himself. There remains in the ground at least five hundred pounds
worth of potatoes and other root crops, and the owner has no possible
means of doing anything with them. Nor, I am assured on trustworthy
authority, would any human being buy them at any price; nor, if any
such person were found, would he be able to find any labourer to touch
any manner of work on the spot under the ban. By an impalpable and
invisible power it is decreed that Mr. Boycott shall be "hunted out," and
it is more than doubtful whether he will, under existing circumstances,
be able to stand against it. He is unquestionably a brave and resolute
man, but there is too much reason to believe that without his garrison
and escort his life would not be worth an hour's purchase.
There are few fairer prospects than that from the steps of Lough Mask
House, a moderately comfortable and unpretending edifice, not quite so
good as a large farmer's homestead in England. But the potatoes will
rot in the ground, and the cattle will go astray, for not a soul in the
Ballinrobe country dare touch a spade for Mr. Boycott. Personally he is
protected, but no woman in Ballinrobe would dream of washing him a
cravat or making him a loaf. All the people have to say is that they are
sorry, but that they "dare not." Hence either Mr. Boycott, with an escort
armed to the teeth, or his wife without an escort--for the people would
not harm her--must go to Ballinrobe after putting a horse in the shafts
themselves, buy what they can, and bring it home. Everybody advises
them to leave the country; but the answer of the besieged agent is
simply this: "I can hardly desert Lord Erne, and, moreover, my own
property is sunk in this place." It is very much like asking a man to give

up work and go abroad for the benefit of his health. He cannot sacrifice
his occupation and his property.
There is very little doubt that this unfortunate gentleman has been
selected as a victim whose fate may strike terror into others. Judging
from what I hear, there is a sort of general determination to frighten the
landlords. Only a few nights ago a man went into a store at Longford
and said openly, "My landlord has processed me for the last four or five
years; but he hasn't processed me this year, and the divil thank him for
that same."

II.
AN AGRARIAN DIFFICULTY.
WESTPORT, CO. MAYO, Oct. 25th.
"Tiernaur, Sorr, is on the way to Claggan Mountain, where they shot at
Smith last year, and--if I don't disremember--is just where they shot
Hunter last August eleven years. Ye'll mind the cross-roads before ye
come to the chapel. It was there they shot him from behind a
sod-bank." This was the reply I received in answer to my