preparation and precaution about them; the
houses were closely shut up; the doors and
windows were fastened, and were opened
only on my word of honour that I would not
distrain. Look-out men were posted at the
stiles and on the slope of the hill to pass the
signal of any hostile demonstration; and the
cattle had been driven on the lauds. Finding
the Martins inexorable, I gave them notice
that I must proceed to extremities; and
coming on the next day with bailiffs, I seized
whatever we could lay hands on, which was
but little in addition to the growing crops,
which at that time might be taken in distress.
On this occasion keepers were placed in
charge until the sale could take place,
fourteen days later. They slept on their post,
were made drunk, and the neighbours
assembled, and, by the light of a brilliant
harvest moon, reaped the corn and carried it
off the lands, where I could not follow it:
although rumour and suspicion traced it to the
barns of a certain justice of the peace, living
not far away, and who scarcely thought it
necessary to deny his complicity in this
contempt of law. The thing was notorious
enough, but evidence could not be obtained,
though matter was gleaned to furnish another
statement of facts and another bill of costs.

The auction of what goods were left was
attended by crowds of people, plainly bent
on preventing any purchases being made;
and accordingly the lots were, one after the
other, knocked down for a few pence to
friends of the Martins, and of course for
them. I made one or two biddings on my
own account; but, finding myself declared the
buyer, for ten shillings, of a huge clamp of
turf (or peat) about a quarter of a mile long,
which it would be impossible to dispose of, I
gave up speculation, and let things take their
course. The sale barely paid the expenses,
and clearly showed the determination of the
people to back the Martins in their contumacy.

This sketch would be imperfect if it did
not contain some notice of the peculiar class
of bailiffs, keepers, or sheriff's-men, which
these agrarian wars created and fostered.
You might as well paint the knight without
his squire, as separate the receiver and his
bailiff. I was obliged to employ several of
these gentry. The principal of the gang was
a young man of a tall and slight figure, but
wiry and athletic. His arms were of
unusual length, muscular, and strong; his eyes
were bloodshot, and had a stealthy look
which avoided your gaze, but with any
excitement they would flash with a cruel and
dangerous expression. He had been
recommended to me as the greatest ruffian in
Tipperary. Indeed, none but a ruffian could
efficiently perform the duties required of
him; and his fidelity was in some measure
assured by the fear and detestation with
which he was regarded by the people.
Humour ascribed to him many desperate and
ruthless deeds; and he was supposed to feel
little scruple to shed blood in self-defence, or
in the execution of his orders. Having once
been set upon, he slew one of his assailants,
and wounded two or three more. Such was
the fame of this and other exploits, and such
the terror of his prowess, that this man,
hated as he was, could pass alone and
unmolested by day or night through the most
disturbed districts; as the crowd retired
from his path in the market-place, a grim
pride in the awe which his presence inspired
would kindle a baleful light in his eye, at
which the bystanders would shudderingly
cross themselves. He had no associates
except his near relatives and his professional
colleagues, and was not afraid to occupy a
lonely cottage in a wood, half a mile from the
town, and without another habitation near.
At the time I made his acquaintance he
was, I suspect, becoming weary of this
estrangement from his kind, and was not
unwilling to come to terms with those whom
he had hitherto despised and defied. I fancy
there was an understanding between him and
the peasantry, by virtue of which he played
into their hands, and gave them secret
information. Yet when extreme measures
could no longer be evaded, or if his blood
was up, the fierce and savage spirit revived
within him, and he was as reckless and as
cruel as of old. While in my employment,
however, I believe he consistently betrayed
me throughout; and although opportunities
were not wanting, he did not display that
daring and animosity to the peasant class
which had made his reputation. I felt he
was not to be depended on, in a moment of
danger.

One of the Martins had struck and frightened
away a keeper, and his offence having
been duly reported in a statement of facts,
writ of attachment, nominally for non-payment
of his rent, issued against him; and, by
dint of much pressing and threatening, the
dilatory sheriff was at length successful in
arresting him. On being brought before the
magistrates at petty session, they thought
proper to let him go without bail, on his
promise to appear on a future day. Peter,
however, neither paid his rent nor obeyed
the summons to go to gaol; whereupon the
constabulary were ordered to take him; but
they were not over-zealous in their search,
and gave me to understand that they had
positively ascertained he had left the country.
Shortly afterwards, however, in one of my
visits to the lands, I observed the fugitive
riding leisurely along the slope of the
opposite hill, about a quarter of a mile off.
Returning hastily to the town, I informed the
sub-inspector of police of what I had seen,
and called upon him to do his duty, warning
him of the serious consequences of further
neglecting the orders of the Court. With
some confusion and prodigious bustle, he
summoned his horse and a party of his men,