Cruel John Adair

He brought the sheriff to our doors
He quenched our fires so bright
My grandsire is no more
He died that fatal night
My mother weeps, her youngest child,
A boy of beauty rare
But four months old, so meek and mild,
Done in by John Adair

For many a year our weary race
Have tilled the mountainside
Have worked old Glenveagh’s rugged face
Have steamed the Atlantic wide
Full fifty homes he has levelled all
And wild sighs fill the air
Full fifty thousand curses fall
On cruel John Adair.

The mountain land ‘round Glenveagh, Co. Donegal, once supported a thriving community but in 1861 the landlord, John Adair, evicted the entire population because they got in the way of his hunting. When the local people challenged his right to shoot over certain areas he determined on getting rid of them. The affair became so bitter that Adair brought in a battalion of soldiers and 200 police and on his orders every single house of a community that had been living there for generations was destroyed. 254 tenants were turned out onto the roadside in the most awful distress and hardship. In Ireland we have very long memories and the cruelty of Adair’s evictions is still remembered in verse: