On the Black Hill Page #4

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We are ready

to put an end to this nonsense.

Is it right that property of this kind

should be put up,

without giving the tenants

a chance to buy'?

Gentlemen, it's a little late in the day.

But I will say the following:

as farmers, you advocate an open market

for the sale of your stock,

and yet you've come here

expecting a closed market

against your landlord?

ls their government control

of the price of land?

There is government control

of the price of stock.

Sir,

this is a sale by public auction, it is...

- ...not a political meeting!

- It'll turn political, soon enough!

You Englishmen...

You think you have troubles enough

in Ireland.

Well, I can tell you...

there's a room full of Welshmen

ready to make trouble right here!

Right! Sir, this is not the time or place

to discuss imperial questions.

There is only one question before us,

gentlemen.

Do we or do we not

wish the sale to proceed?

No!

- Chuck the bugger out!

- Aye!

I shall say one thing more.

If this disturbance continues,

the lots will be withdrawn

and offered for sale by private treaty,

in a single block.

It's best to leave him go on now,

or we'll lose the chance.

It's our only chance, man.

All right, all right!

But if I catch any man, woman or dog

bidding against a tenant, I'll boot him!

Hear! Hear!

Very well, then. The gentleman has given

his permission to proceed.

Lot One, then.

Red Darren.

Farm and barns and 95 acres.

One thousand pounds am I bid?

- One thousand pounds.

- One thousand, one hundred.

Eleven hundred pounds.

One thousand, two hundred pounds.

One thousand, three hundred.

One thousand, three hundred.

One thousand, four hundred.

Two thousand, six hundred.

Two thousand, seven hundred.

Two thousand, eight hundred,

and that's as far as I'll go.

Two thousand, eight hundred pounds.

The property's for sale at

two thousand, eight hundred pounds.

Very well, then.

Sold to the tenant for 2,800.

Drinks on me, after, boys!

Lot Two!

This is it.

Vision Farm.

House and outbuildings, with 120 acres

and grazing rights on the Black Hill.

What am I bid? One thousand pounds?

One thousand pounds, is it?

- Your bid, sir, at one thousand pounds.

- One thousand, one hundred.

One thousand, one hundred.

One thousand, two hundred.

One thousand, three hundred pounds.

One thousand, four hundred pounds.

One thousand, five hundred pounds.

One thousand, six hundred pounds.

One thousand, seven hundred pounds.

One thousand, eight hundred pounds.

One thousand, nine hundred pounds.

- Two thousand.

- Two thousand, two hundred.

Two thousand, two hundred pounds.

Two thousand, four hundred pounds.

Two thousand, six hundred pounds.

And seven.

And 50.

The property's for sale at 2,750.

For the first time of asking,

at 2,750.

Asking for the second time,

at 2,750.

For the third and last time,

at 2,750.

Very well, then.

Sold to the tenant for 2,750...

Three thousand pound.

At 3,000. The bid

is at the back of the room for 3,000.

Three thousand, one hundred.

Near me at 3,1 QB.

Three thousand, five hundred.

Three thousand, five hundred,

at the back.

- And six.

- And six, at the front.

Four thousand pound.

Four thousand pounds,

a bidder at the back.

- Four thousand, one hundred.

- Four thousand, one hundred.

Four thousand, five hundred.

Four thousand, five hundred pounds.

At the back.

Four thousand, six hundred.

Four thousand,

six hundred pounds, near me.

Five thousand pound.

Five thousand pounds,

the bidder at the back.

Five thousand, one hundred.

Five thousand, one hundred,

near me, again.

Five thousand, two hundred.

At 5,200.

Five thousand, two hundred.

Are you all done?

Against you, sir.

Sold to the bidder at the back,

for 5,200.

- Five thousand, three hundred.

- Oh, stop it. It's mad. You've got to stop!

Near me, again, at 5,300.

Five thousand, four hundred.

Thank you, sir, 5,400...

And 500.

Near me, again. At 5,500.

Very well, then.

Sold to the tenant, for 5,500.

Unfair, madam?

In what way "unfair"?

Mm'?

It was a public auction.

It was a private vendetta.

Mr Watkins has made our lives a misery.

Since that business over the boundary,

he's done everything he could to upset us.

After he left his wife,

we thought we might get some peace.

Yes, Mrs Jones, I am listening.

Is there anything more you wish to say?

I was hoping that...

I was wondering if the trustees

would agree to reduce the price.

Reduce the price? What a suggestion!

- Well, is there no way?

- None.

- Is there no hope?

- Hope?

I call it sheer effrontery.

You won't get that price from anyone else,

you know.

I beg your pardon, Mrs Jones.

On the contrary.

Mr Watkins walked in here,

this very morning,

only too willing to place his deposit,

should the purchaser default.

I don't believe you.

Don't.

You'll have 28 days

in which to decide.

How's Father?

Acting strange.

"Vanity. All is vanity.

"Strike me, God, for my pride.

"Cast my sin into the sea.

Punish my flesh for my transgression.

"Strike me! God, cleave me..."

- What can I tell him now?

- "...would spare my little flock.

"Spare not this sinner. Spare not e'en...

"But spare my humble dwelling.

"Dear Mrs Bickerton...

"You will have heard

that Mr Watkins, Craig-y-fedw,

"and my husband Amos

"have not always seen eye to eye..."

Thanks.

"Poor you. What an ordeal. Thank heavens

I still have some clout with the trustees.

"Whatever the reserve was,

you can certainly have it for that."

Big 0' them!

Very big 0' them.

Bloody English.

Who do they think they are?

Bloody Bickertons!

It's me as farms the land, not them!

Of course...we'd never have got into this,

if it hadn't been for you.

They only gave us the lease because

you went down on your knees to them.

It's all your money and your furniture,

isn't it'?

And I'm the one as does the work!

You couldn't even look after

your own daughter.

If you'd been more of a mother to her,

she'd have never have gone off like that!

And for them two idiots...

And now everything's gone to whinders,

and all you have to do

is write some clever-clever letter.

But I'm the one as scraped and saved

and ruined his health.

Not the bloody English!

Me! A Welshman!

And you know what?

They can keep it.

I do...not...want it!

Not at that price.

Not at any price!

Do you know what I want?

I know what I want.

My daughter.

Rebecca.

That's what I want. Back. Back home.

And her husband. Bloody Irishman!

Couldn't be worse than them two halfwits!

And I'll find her,

and bring her back!

Bring them both back!

Back!

Back!

I know...

Somehow we'll find her.

Somehow we'll get her back.

Why did I put her out?

You've the strength of an ox, Mr Jones.

We'll have you on your feet

in no time.

I'm afraid you'll have to expect

another attack, you know.

Haines, take over, will you?

- He was a fine man.

- God have mercy on his soul.

He was a good man.

Yes, he was a good man.

Ben, look!

Hello.

- Dennis.

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