An Eviction Scene. >From the Tipperary Vindicator. 2-6-1849. (Toomevara) It was a piteous spectacle on Thursday, in the midst of pouring rain, to see children led by their parents out from their houses into the street, to see mothers kneel down on the wet ground and holding their children up to heaven, beg relief from the Almighty, and strength to endure their afflictions. The cries of bereaved women and men running half frantic through the streets, or cowering from the rain and wind under the shelter of their poor furniture, piled confusedly about, were affecting in the extreme. To see, amid all this misery, ten or twelve burly ruffians from Nenagh, assailing the houses with crowbars, and to hear the cries of exultation as a wall yielded to their assaults, or a roof tumbled down with a crash, the spectator should be callous that could avoid being greatly affected. It was altogether as deplorable a spectacle as I have ever beheld. But let me give you a detailed account of the day's proceedings. Having heard that the work of ejectment was again put off from Wednesday, I proceeded from Nenagh at an early hour on Thursday morning, and arrived in Toomevara at 9 O'Clock. The Sub-Sheriff's deputy, Mr. Samuel Gason, was there before me, and Mr. Charles O'Dell, of the Police, with about forty of the constabulary. The scene, as I passed through the western end of the village, will not soon be effaced from my recollection. The entire range of houses from the cross at the Rev. Mr. Meagher, P.P.'s house, to Mrs Hill's Coach Office, had been tumbled down, and were all roofless with the exception of three. The wretched creatures who had inhabited them were sitting on the ground alongside their little effects, or were busy erecting huts with the timber of the roofs against the ditch at the opposite side of the road. Some of these huts, or shanties, were erected, and here they were huddled in groups. Beds, bedclothes, pots, boxes, chairs, and tables lay scattered about in dire confusion. It was scarcely possible for one to pass without being blinded by the clouds of soot and dust. Heaps of sooty black straw obstructed the way, and several small cars were loading with the timber on the roofs, whilst others were rolling away in different directions. The inhabitants of this part of the village, I understand, were tenants of a Mr. Long, and had thrown down their houses by arrangement, in anticipation of the Sheriff's arrival, as I heard they were promised the timber and thatch. Passing on through the village I reached the upper end, or Church Street, where the Sheriff's Sub Deputy, some police, John Donohoe, the driver on the estates, and a posse of bailiffs, had already commenced the work of ejecting the wretched people from their houses. Only two houses were taken down in this street, twelve families were turned out, and the doors secured by driving staples into the jambs. The way was covered with furniture and beds, and many of the wretched creatures, as they staggered about the road, poured out sad lamentations, and showed feebleness and extreme misery. They made loud complaints of want to the Sheriff's man, Mr. Gason, by whom they were referred to the relieving officer, Mr. O'Leary, who was present, and who, is stated, should relieve their wants, or get them shelter in the poor house, if they can find no other place of refuge. Passing out of Church Street, the party of bailiffs entered what is called Main Street, where, having gone through the usual legal formality of taking possession of some untenanted houses. Still more pitiable scenes were presented than I had witnessed in either of the two former localities. Some of the houses in this street contained four and five families, all in great destitution. They were scarcely half clad, and many of them had apparently got up from their miserable pallets of straw to go out on the road and lay their bodies in the ditch. In one instance a wretched looking creature named Gleeson, with gaunt and fleshless jaws, and eyes of most unnatural size and hideous wildness, was pushed from the house by the bailiffs, greedily devouring some repulsive looking substance like paste from a metal pot which he held in his arms. The poor type of humanity, as he grasped the vessel which contained his disgusting meal, looked a perfect representation of King Famine. While engaged in dispossessing the tenants at this side of the street, the sound of breaking windows was heard higher up, where the bailiffs had not yet arrived. I repaired to the spot the noise proceeded from, and perceived a strong and comfortable looking man carrying articles of furniture out of a house which was painted neatly, and presented an air of comfort in comparison with the other houses in the village. The man stood, and looking at the furniture piled outside the door, he caught up a hammer, and commenced smashing the windows, from which however, he desisted on the coming up of Mr. Gason and the attendant bailiffs. He cried bitterly, and turning to the crowd made a lamentable complaint. He held a bake house and 6 acres of land, and said he was doing well in the world. While speaking he was struck a blow on the mouth by a butcher named Donohue, for whom his house, I understand, was intended. A shout was then raised, several men rushed forward, on both sides, and the conflict was likely to terminate disastrously were it not for the interference of the police. A little beyond this, at the house of a man named Brislane, a still more affecting scene took place. The house was a comfortable slated one of two stories high, the windows well glazed and large. Brislane and his wife both stood outside the house in tears. The woman held a child in her arms, and a little girl near her held another. The children also cried bitterly. As the bailiffs approached Brislane pulled off his hat, and throwing himself on his knees, exclaimed, while the tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks, and his breast heaved with sobs, "May the malediction of heaven fall"--here his wife threw her arms around him, entreated him not to curse, and kneeling down herself on the wet ground, and holding her child up towards heaven, she said, "No Jim, do not curse, but let both of us and the children pray to the Great God to forgive them". I saw on many rough visages the traces of deep emotion. Brislane was running about in a state of distraction, bitterly complaining. None of the houses from the corner of this house to Brislane's were levelled; but a little beyond Brislane's Fethard Street commences, and as soon as the party entered on the street a body of twelve bailiffs from Nenagh, who had been in a house up to this period, came up, each carrying a crowbar, and the work of levelling here commenced, with an extraordinary coolness on the part of the bailiffs. Three or four of them would collect at a corner of a house, and by a few well directed strokes of a crow dislodge a quoin, when the wall generally tumbled in an exceedingly brief short space of time. Their faces, when they were a short time at work, became so begrimed and blackened with dust, that they looked quite horrible. Four houses at the commencement of Fethard Street were razed in an incredibly short space. Another house remained to be demolished, and the bailiffs were about applying crow bars to the walls, when it being said that a wretched man named Booth was inside unable to leave his bed. Mr. Gason entered, and a sight of the most harrowing description presented itself to his eyes. The poor creature lay on a wretched straw pallet in the corner, his face and limbs were swollen, and he was scarcely able to articulate a word from excessive debility. Mr. Gason gave him a shilling, and appointed him "caretaker" of the house for a week, perceiving that the inevitable consequence of throwing him out, would be instant death. Here the rain, which had been falling all day, increased violently. I left the scene for a short time to see the condition of the people in the other parts of the village. It was heartrending, absolutely horrific. To describe the contrivances resorted to in order to ward off the "pelting of the pitiless storm" would be an endless task. Chairs were arranged in squares, quilts, sheets, and pieces of old canvass were stretched on poles, wigwams were thus formed under whose covering the poor creatures were seated, completely saturated with the rain which fell through the flimsy awning overhead nearly as plentifully as it did from the skies overhead. Asses cars and turf baskets were also upturned, and gave shelter to scores of half clad wretches. I again proceeded to Fethard Street. The bailiffs had gone up on the east side, where they were at my departure, and having demolished two or three houses, were now engaged at the opposite side. I could not ascertain the exact amount of those whom it is intended to furnish other dwellings to; but I am told on good authority that selections have been made which give occasion to very bad feelings. Anxious to do my duty impartially and with candour to all parties, I made the most rigid inquiries on this head, and am assured by the most reliable authority that the persons to be taken in must be considerable less than 30 families. I then proceeded to Pound Street, where a great many persons were rendered houseless. I could get no accurate report of the names of the lodgers in each house, but was told that at least one and sometimes two families, along with the nominal occupant's family, resided in each. Beyond the end of Pound-Street, on the road leading to Graune, some eight or ten houses, inhabited by some families of Ryan's, were also, I am told, demolished. But I had not time to proceed to the spot, and make personal observations. Taking into consideration, the number of lodgers which the houses contained in addition to the recognised tenants, and of which I could get no accurate return, I should suppose that the entire number turned out of their houses on Thursday would reach 150 families, over 600 individuals. Of this number, I would learn that about 30 families, on a average of four to each family, about 120 persons, were to be allowed other dwellings in the village. So that 480 persons or 120 families would thus appear to be thrown on the "waves of the world" as some of the unfortunate people themselves stated it. I have now only to add that in the drawing up of this report, and in collecting the facts I have herein stated, I was influenced solely by a desire to do even justice to all parties. Before I close this lengthy report, I deem it only due to Mr. Denis McCarthy, the Middle Landlord of Church Street, Main Street, and a great part of Fethard Street, to state, that on his appearance among his former tenants, the protestations of gratitude the poor creatures poured out on him were unbounded. I saw several kneel on the wet street, and call down blessings on his head for the indulgence he had shown while exercising the functions of the landlord over them. Night was falling as the Sheriff's deputy, with his attendants, had taken possession of the last house in Pond-Street (May be Pound Street). I won't attempt to describe what was indescribable-the soul harrowing conditions of the poor wretches in the wigwams at the time I was leaving Toomevara (8 o'clock in the evening). No pen could portray in its true colours the fearful horrors of the picture.