Two hours later I was wakened by the heavy tread of many feet down the
road. A large number of men were passing round the house. We leapt out
of bed, and, peering through the windows, could see two peelers at each
window, with rifles at the “ready.”
A man who was down on the foreshore, with my house between him and the
village, afterwards described the scene. The whole force of eighteen
peelers, three sergeants, and a district inspector, had charged down
my _boithrin_ at the double—charged down on a house in which one man,
one woman, eight hens and fifteen chickens lay asleep. There was little
need for so desperate an attack.
* * * * *
Agitated counsels could point no better way than a peaceful surrender;
so I went out to the porch, and through the window spoke to the
district inspector. I told him that my wife was dressing, and that I
would stand there in his sight if he would give her a few moments in
which to put a few clothes about her before his men took possession of
the house. He agreed. But the local sergeant had other notions of the
proper and fitting thing to be done on so auspicious an occasion. Some
baulks of timber were lying about the house, and with these, and some
heavy rocks, he set about to batter down the doors.
* * * * *
Two peelers came into the bedroom with me while I dressed, while the
others tied every available piece of paper that could be found into
parcels. And after a hurried breakfast I was borne off on a motor car
for Castlebar Jail, with a peeler sitting each side of me, and one
in front, beside the driver, with loaded carbines. It was a cold,
miserable morning, and a hurricane of wind and rain swept about the
car.