Mr. Thompson had appointed to meet me this morning in the Limerick station, from which we were to start together for his home at Shaunganeen, but as he was coming from the south, and I from Castle Connell, our trains did not fit in, and I had to wait nearly three-quarters of an hour. What can be done in a railway station, unless one dreams? might have said M. de la Fontaine, had stations existed in his time. And therefore I allowed myself to make all the reflections which I have just written down—reflections suggested to me by the sight of twenty or twenty-five constables, who, after forming on the quay under a sergeant’s orders, took their seats four by four on the benches of jaunting cars, which were waiting for them before the door. They then drove off towards the country.
“There, a few more poor devils will sleep homeless to-night!” said one of the railway officials, standing by my side, looking at them with an unsympathetic air.
And it is probable that they are going to aid in an eviction. The men are in marching dress, knapsack on the back, and rifle on the shoulder. I must mention that the cars waiting for them are painted red, and driven by officials belonging to the Government. Formerly, when a squad had to be transferred rapidly from one point to another, the Government hired carriages, but now it has been obliged for some years to have its own, for there was not one owner who dared provide them for its use.
My meditation was suddenly interrupted.
“We must hurry,” said Mr. Thompson, who had just arrived; “our train is ready, we have but just time to take our places.”
Two minutes later we were rolling towards Shaunganeen. Mr. Thompson is, like Mr. Trench my host at Kenmare, one of the best known agents in the south of Ireland. During the two hours that the journey lasted he told me his story, and related through what train of unlucky circumstances he could now boast of being at the present time one of the most boycotted men in all Ireland. You must first know that Mr. Thompson is not, like most of his brethren, content to be only a receiver of rents. Instead of letting to the farmers all the land, the management of which has been confided to him, he retains a sufficiently large portion in his own hands, reserving it for the landlord. This arrangement would be quite unsuccessful amongst us. However, they say that certain Irish landlords have derived benefit from its adoption. In any case, it has one advantage. The landlords are less at the mercy of a coalition of farmers, for the latter, knowing that the bailiff or agent disposes of all the necessities of cultivation, always dread that their lands may be taken from them if they ask for too much reduction—a dread that may be salutary, but which they would not have by the other arrangement.
Mr. Thompson’s case proves that this weapon has not great efficacy in actual circumstances. One of his farmers was greatly in arrear; he did not pay, and showed no intention of paying. His land was contiguous to some of the land cultivated by Mr. Thompson. The latter thought that it would be a good opportunity of uniting them; he therefore asked the farmer to come and see him, and proposed to take them back—adding that if he were willing to consent to this arrangement, they would give him a receipt for the rent in arrear. He curtly refused, and said that he would refer the matter to the Land League. He did so, for, two or three days later, Mr. Thompson received a notice that if the man were sent away, the farm would be boycotted. Usually the boycotting of a farm inflicts great loss upon its landlord because he cannot find a tenant. But since Mr. Thompson had no intention of seeking one, for he intended cultivating the land himself, he thought it useless to take any notice of this threat. The necessary formalities were completed; at the termination of the legal delay he secured the assistance of a good number of soldiers and constables, and the eviction took place, without more stones and mud than usual being thrown at the representatives of authority.
Mr. Thompson felt quite proud of the victory he fancied he had gained over the League. But he soon discovered that his triumph was less complete than he had at first imagined. One day, in going round the farm, he noticed that the hay was ready to cut. The same evening he told four men, who usually worked for him, to take their scythes the next morning and commence mowing. The men curtly refused, saying that the League had placarded in the village a prohibition against working on the land, and they dared not disobey. They were immediately dismissed. Only it was equally necessary to send away all the other farm-labourers, for none of them were more docile. He endeavoured to procure substitutes from the neighbouring villages by offering two or three times the usual wages; it was impossible to find a single one.
A short time before these events some of the victims of the League had recognised that one cause of their weakness was their isolation. They agreed that the best means of resistance would be to borrow some of its methods of procedure. Similia, similibus! Resistance, although impossible to one man, could be made efficacious if they organised themselves—all the more so, because many of the people who now submitted would have resisted had they been sure of being supported. They therefore formed, under the name of the Cork Defence Union, an association, which was intended to unite all opponents of the League, and to paralyse by every possible means its most offensive measure, i.e. boycotting. The most important persons in the county, the Earl of Bandon and Viscount Doneraile, were named president and vice-president. Numerous adherents joined from all sides, and soon the Anti-league had command of sufficient resources to enter upon a campaign. In order to bring those to reason whom the Leaguers of the neighbourhood found refractory, they had adopted two very efficacious methods. They forbade the blacksmiths to shoe the horses, and the owners of machines to thresh the harvest of those whom they had interdicted. The association imported machines and portable forges, which, protected by a strong escort of constables and managed by picked men, scoured the country and worked in spite of all attempts to break them. For the first time they succeeded in counteracting the League.
Mr. Thompson was one of the first adherents and even one of the organisers of the Cork Defence Union. He, therefore, at once thought of applying to it for help in his embarrassment. The Cork Defence Union was equal to the circumstances. In two days it supplied twelve determined mowers from England, who arrived escorted by a picket of cavalry and a company of infantry. This haymaking was useful for the instruction of the troops. The rules of the service when in campaign were strictly observed. Every morning the cavalry reconnoitred the country, ready to fall back upon the infantry, who were drawn up in battle array on the edge of the field, and during the night advanced posts guarded every haystack. Thanks to these wise precautions, and also to the fact that there was very little rain, the hay was gathered in at the end of four days. But when making up his accounts Mr. Thompson found with some bitterness that agriculture is really not remunerative when it is carried on under military protection.