a sort of Roman testudo, worked at removing the earthern ramparts, others nimbly climbed to the roof and began to break in from above.  In their excitement the garrison helped this forward by breaking holes through the roof themselves to get at the attacking party, and in about twenty minutes the fortress was captured, and the inmates were prisoners.  Two constables were burned by the red-hot pikes, the gun of another was broken to pieces by a huge stone, and a fourth was slightly wounded by a fork.  One of the defenders got a sword-cut; and Tully was brought forth as one too severely wounded to walk.  Upon investigation, however, the surgeon refused to certify that he was unable to undergo the ordinary imprisonment in such cases made and provided.

The collapse of the resistance at this central point was followed by a general surrender.

After the capture of Tully’s house, Mr. Tener writes to me, “I found it being gutted by his family, who would have carried it away piecemeal.  They had already taken away the flooring of one of the rooms.”  Thereupon Mr. Tener had the house pulled down, with the result of seeing a statement made in a leading Nationalist paper that he was “evicting the tenants and pulling down their houses.”

“Yesterday,” Mr. Tener writes to me on the 9th of September, “I walked twenty-five miles, visiting thirty farms about Portumna.  Except in two or three cases, the tenants have ample means, and part of the live stock alone on the farms, exclusive of the crops, would suffice to pay all the rents I had demanded.  On the farms recently ‘evicted,’ I found treble the amount of the rent due in live stock alone.”

As to one case of these recent evictions, I found it stated in an Irish journal that a young man, who had been ill of consumption for two years, the son of a tenant, was removed from the house, the local physician refusing to certify that he was unfit for removal, and that he died a few days afterwards.  The implication was obvious, and I asked Mr. Tener for the facts.

He replied, “This young man, John Fahey, was in consumption, but did not appear to be in any danger.  Dr. Carte, an Army surgeon, examined him, and said there was no immediate danger.  The day was fine and he walked about wrapped in a comfortable coat, and talked with me and others.  His father, a respectable man, made no attempt to defend his house; and at his request, after the crowd had gone away, my man in charge permitted the invalid and the family to reoccupy the house temporarily because of his illness.  There was no inquest, and no need of any, after his death.  His father, Patrick Fahey, had means to pay, but told me he ‘could not,’ which meant he ‘dared not.’  I went to him personally twice, and sent him many messages.  But the terror of the League was upon the poor man.

“An interesting case is that of Michael Fahey, of Dooras.  In 1883 his rent was judicially reduced about 5 per cent., from L33 to L31, 5s.  His house and all about it is substantial and comfortable.  His father, about thirty years ago, fought for a whole night and bravely beat off a party of ‘Terry-Alts,’ the ‘Moonlighters’ of that day.  For his courage the Government presented him with a gun, of which the son is very proud.  Pity he did not inherit the pluck with the gun of his parent!