The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1881-10-19
An Irish Eriction4A Novel Means 0
Defense.


Defense.
ADublin correspondent of the New
York Times writes: The latest sensa-
ton drama in real life was presented
this week in picturesque district called
CShhnbough, near New Ross, in the
County Of Wexford. At early noon O
strong force. of cavalry, infantry and
police moved along the highroad, evil
IDENTIFY on serious business bent. In the
rear of the little army there followed q
number of bailiffs and general utility
men, carrying crowbars, pickaxes,
sledge-hammers, ladders, and other
/" properties" They were en- route to
the residence of widow woman named
Holden, who was q tenant on the prop
erty of Mr.. Boyd, whose son was shot
dead one Sunday afternoon some time
ago, while driving along the road with
his father, who at the time escaped with
his life as If by miracle. The Widow
Holden was under eviction. She,
through. her family, held possession of
6 the farmhouse, and the large civil and
Z military force was proceeding to aid the
Sheriff in the execution of the laws de-
cree by force of arms, If necessary.
When the widows house was reached it
was 6ctu LI&L NO WdS tine
order of the day, and that there was
tough, work to be done.
The scene Is well "set" on a stage
acres in extent; infantry soldiers and
police in q semi-circle in front of the
Widows cottage; fringe of cavalry in
their rear, and q background of excited
peasantry-men, women and children.
Z In hont of the troops are the g property
menn and the officers in command of
the expedition. There Is heard the rat
Ting of muskets as the soldiers bring
their arms to the rest; the clanking Of
sabers, the champing of bridle-bits, the
light laughter of the troops, and the an
CRY talk OF the peasantry in their native
tongue. Enter now the Sheriff, with
the original writ of ejectment in his
hand. The door of the cottage
is shut and the windows are barred
FROM within. The Sheriff knocks
attthe door with the handle of his riding
whip, and, in q somewhat uncertain
tone OF voice, demands possession by
virtue of the Queens writ to him d.
rected. There is no response save de-
risive shout from the crowd grouped
around the line of military; all Is as 81
lent within the cottage as II it were de-
serted. But the Sheriff knows that it
isn't deserted, and this Is the trouble
with him. At . sign from him the
property men" advance and set to
knocking In the door with sledge-ham-
mers and crowbars. The first blow of
. sledge is the signal for action from
within. From an upper window comes
deluge of boiling water on the men
beneath, who drop their implements
and run swearing from the scalding
shower. A wild shout Of triumph comes
from the crowd, there is q short consul
tation among the chiefs of the expedi-
ton, and the "property men" again ad-
vance to the door, not at all with alacri-
ty; again the boiling water leaps out at
the windows on their heads, and comes
kissing into their faces through every
space in the gaping door. One power
full fellow, who has been badly scalded
on the shoulders and back, takes up
great stone, and, with q giant effort,
on its straining hinges, but doesn't give
way. A long and heavy ladder is now
used as "battering- -ram," and before
some Of its impetuous blows the enfee-
bled door groans, gapes still wider, and
ultimately falls in.
But this is not much of a gain for the
storming party, who find themselves
face to face with well-built barricade
Of stones and wood in the hall. The
house is now surrounded by the military
and police, who have orders to capture
the garrison. The bailiffs set to work
to tear down the barricade, and the
boiling water does cruel execution upon
their heads and faces. 1t seems as If they
had been boiling water for q week in
the cottage In anticipation of the
seige; the supply appears to be
unlimited. The barricade' in the
hall is at length torn down, when new
trouble and danger present themselves
In the form of the widows stalwart sons
and retainers holding the pass armed
with pitchforks. The Sheriff's men,
regarding this obstruction as more seri-
GUS than boiling water, refuse to ad-
vance. The bayonets are ordered up.
A party of police, led by an officer, con-
front the men with the pitchforks, upon
whom the officer calls to surrender or
take the consequences. They won't
surrender, they say, and they don't care
for the consequences, and saying this
they take up strong position on the
stair-landing. "Prepare to charge"
says the officer to his men, and the bay
oneted rifles drop to the regulation an
gle for charging purposes. N Charge"
shouts the officer, and away go the bay
onets up the staircase. There is a strugr
gle, short and sharp, and when it is over
the men on the landing are in custody
and disarmed. They are handcuffed
and led out prisoners of war. The
process of clearing out every article of
furniture Is now begun, and when it is
completed the woman of the house and
her daughter alone remain. They re-
fuse to cross the threshold, which the
law requires to be done, otherwise the
entire proceedings would be abortive.
The end of it Is that the widow and her
daughter are carried outside the thresh-
old, and then the legal process is COM
pleted. There are loud lamentations
from the women of the crowd the men
are excited, and, probably, but for the
presence of what they call "the army"
IN such overwhelming force, they would
plunge into the scene. The house is
now garrisoned in the interest of the
landlord, and the troops reform and
march off the ground with their prison.
ers. All this, think, leads to the con-
clusion that if dramatists who now write
" powerful Irish plays would give up
attempting to invent sensation scenes
and stick to the facts as we have them
now they would produce plays intensely
sensational and at the same time rigidly
true TO real Ife."
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