Assassination

Am writing from the breathtakingly beautiful northwest coast of Ireland, more specifically the little village of Dunfanaghy, County Donegal. We're comfortably accommodated at the Arnold's Hotel (www.arnoldshotel.com), and, if I twist around in my seat at the computer here in the lobby, I can see the cove that empties into the north Atlantic, sheep grazing on the rocky hillside acrosss the bay, and horses crossing the road for a hack (trot) on the beach. With all this gorgeous scenery so close at hand, and ease of access to it via a narrow, one-lane paved loop out to Horn's Head, you might wonder why I'm thinking about assassination.

But near here, just outside of Carrigart, on the road to Millford, the third Earle of Leitrim was gunned down on April 2nd, 1878. He had just evicted 28 tenants from their small (2-3 acre) plots on his estate. Three homeless tenants, after carefully securing a small borrrowed boat at the shore of nearby Mulroy Bay, lay in wait for Lord Leitrim's carriage on a bitterly cold morning. Just at the foot of a hill where the horses had to slow, the three opened fire. Their first shots killed the coachman and only wounded Lord Leitrim who was swathed in a heavy traveling coat and horse blanket. He had two guns with him in the carriage and an armed constable because of threats on his life from desperate evictees. (Several women and children had died walking in freezing weather to find shelter in barns.) Lord Leitrim was a tough old bird. He took eight shots before he stumbled out of the carriage, stuggling to free his two shot pistol from his heavy coat. One of the attackers approached to smash his head with a rifle butt. The Earle grabbed a handfull of his assailant's red beard, the only evidence left behind, before falling face down in the frost crusted mud.

A reward of several hundred pounds was offered for information about the identity of the criminals. Only a pound or two would have paid the overdue rents. No one came forward to cooperate with the authorities. Just a few years ago, in the '70's, the residents of Fanad, a remote peninsula on the eastern shore of Mulroy Bay, erected a monument, a Celtic high cross, to honor the Fanad men who killed the infamous landlord, so hated by his tenants.

For some reason, I want to stand on the spot where Lord Leitrim died and imagine what it would have been like to be evicted from my "cottage" (a 10' x 12' windowless sod, thatch and wattle hovel) along with my wife and children and with maybe only a loaf of old bread and a hope of shelter with the animals.

Written by Joy Davis - Summer of Travel 2007