"The sham squire" and the informers of 1798 : with jottings about Ireland a century ago

Each story keeps the passage it was read from. Open one to read it as the scan has it, and, where the companion has written its own telling, that too. The passages are read off photographs of the page by machine, so a word here and there comes out wrong; they are kept as the reading produced them, so you can check any of them against the scan.

1. Arrest and mortal wounding of Lord Edward Fitzgerald in Thomas Street

   Thomas Street · street · Dublin · 1798

   Major Swan and Captain Ryan confronted Lord Edward at Murphy's house in Thomas Street; a violent struggle ensued in which Lord Edward stabbed both men before being shot and captured by Major Sirr.

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   my lord, and I know you," exclaimed Swan ; "it will be vain to resist."* This logic did not convince Lord Edward. He sprang from the bed like a tiger from its laii', and with a wave-bladed dagger, which he had concealed under the pillow, made some stabs at the intruder, but without as yet inflicting mortal injury.

   An authorised version of the arrest, evidently supplied by Swan himself, appears in The Eoqiress of May 26, 1798:— "His lordship then closed upon Mr Swan, shortened the dagger, and gave him a stab in the side, under the left arm and breast, having first changed it from one hand to the other over his shoulder, (as Mr Swan thinks.) Finding the blood runaing from him, and the impossibility to restrain him, he was compelled, in defence of his life," adds Swan's justification, "to discharge a double-barrelled pistol at his lordship, which wounded him in the shoulder. He fell on the bed, but recovering himself, ran at him with the dagger, which Mr Swan caught by the blade with one hand, and endeavoured to trip him up." Captain Ryan, with considerafele animation, then proceeded to attack Lord Edward with a sword-cane, which bent on his ribs. Sirr, who had between two and three hundred men with him, was engaged in placing pickets round the house, when the report of Swan's pistol made him hurry up-stairs. "On my arrival in view of Lord Edward, Eyan, and Swan," writes Major Sirr, in a letter addressed to Captain Ryan's son, on December 29, 1838, "I beheld his lordship standing, with a dagger in his hand, as if ready to plunge it into my friends, while dear Ryan, seated on the bottom step of the flight of the upper stairs, had Lord Edward grasped with both his arms by the legs or thighs, and Swan in a somewhat similar situation, both labouring under the torment of their wounds, when, without hesitation, I fired at

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 37

   As the companion tells it

   This is Thomas Street in Dublin, where Lord Edward Fitzgerald was arrested and mortally wounded in 1798. Major Swan and Captain Ryan came to Murphy's house to seize him. Swan called out that he knew him and that it would be vain to resist. Lord Edward sprang from the bed like a tiger from its lair, with a wave-bladed dagger he had concealed under the pillow. He made stabs at the intruders, then closed on Swan, changed the dagger from one hand to the other over his shoulder, and stabbed him in the side, under the left arm and breast. Swan, finding the blood running from him, discharged a double-barrelled pistol at Lord Edward, wounding him in the shoulder. Lord Edward fell on the bed but recovered himself and ran at Swan again with the dagger. Swan caught the blade with one hand and tried to trip him. Captain Ryan then attacked Lord Edward with a sword-cane, which bent on his ribs. Major Sirr, who had between 200 and 300 men with him, was placing pickets around the house when he heard the pistol shot and hurried upstairs. He found Lord Edward standing with the dagger in his hand, Ryan seated on the bottom step of the upper stairs grasping Lord Edward by the legs, and Swan in a similar state, both labouring under their wounds. Sirr, without hesitation, fired at Lord Edward.

2. Massacre of thirty-six prisoners at Dunlavin fair green

   Dunlavin · town · Wicklow · 1798

   Following false accusations, thirty-six United Irishmen prisoners held at Dunlavin market-house were marched to the fair green and shot by the Ancient Britons on 26 May 1798. Widows and relatives watched in horror as soldiers' wives then robbed the mangled corpses, killing a wounded man who resisted.

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   near Stratford-on-Slaney, reviewed his corps^ and then au- Donnced that he had private information of all those in it •who were United Irishmen. AH who were such were then ordered to step from the ranks. Many, in the belief that he had true information of their infidelity, came forward. One man, however, Pat Doyle by name, having got a hint from Captain Saunders's butler, who was a member of the corps, that his master had no reliable information, said, when his name was called, that he was no " United man," the remainder of them took the hint, and the gallant captain was thus foUed. The unfortunate men who so unintentionally betrayed themselves were pinioned and marched to the market-house of Dunlavin for confinement until their fate would be decided. Next day Captain WiUiam Eyves of the Kathsallagh yeomen, being on the look-out for insurgents on the hUl of Uske, his horse was killed by a ball aimed at its rider. Eyves got home safely ; rode to Dunlavin, and then it was determined to shoot the prisoners of Saunders's yeomen, and those of the Narraghmore corps, numbering in all thirty-six men. Next day, the 26th of May, being the market-day of Dunlavin, these unfortunates were marched from the market-house to the fair green, on the rising ground above the little town. In a hoRow or pit on the north side, near the gate of the Ko' man Catholic chapel on the Sparrowhouse Eoad, the victims were ranged, while a platoon of the Ancient Britons stood on the higher ground on the south side of the green on the Boherbuoy Eoad. They fired with murderous effect on the thirty-six victims. All fell — dead and dying — amid the shrieks and groans of the bystanders, among whom were their widows and relatives. After this murderous task was completed, the military retired to the market-house for other acts scarcely less cruel and bloody. Flogging and hanging was the order, of the day, to stamp out disaffection and strike terror into the hearts of the country people. At the green, when all was hushed, while the life-blood was welling from the murdered victims, their friends and relatives powerless to soothe their pangs, and lurking in terror behind the neighbouring fences, the soldiers' wives came to rifle the mangled corpses of the slain. One poor fellow who was only wounded, when ha

   310 APPENDIX.

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 104

   As the companion tells it

   The road takes you through or near Dunlavin, a Wicklow town where a sharp episode of 1798 unfolded. Captain Saunders, of a yeoman corps near Stratford-on-Slaney, reviewed his men and announced he had private information naming every United Irishman among them. He ordered all who were such to step from the ranks. Many did, believing he truly knew. One man, Pat Doyle, was tipped by Saunders's butler, a member of the corps, that the captain had no reliable information. When his name was called, Doyle said he was no "United man." The rest took the hint, and Saunders was foiled. But the men who had already stepped forward were pinioned and marched to the market-house. The next day, Captain William Eyves of the Kathsallagh yeomen was scouting for insurgents on the hill of Uske when a ball aimed at him killed his horse. Eyves got home safely, rode to the town, and there it was decided to shoot the prisoners of Saunders's yeomen and the Narraghmore corps, thirty-six men in all. On the 26th of May, market-day, the prisoners were marched from the market-house to the fair green, on the rising ground. They were ranged in a hollow near the gate of the Roman Catholic chapel on the Sparrowhouse Road. A platoon of the Ancient Britons stood on higher ground to the south, on the Boherbuoy Road, and fired with murderous effect. All thirty-six fell, dead and dying, amid the shrieks and groans of bystanders, among them widows and relatives of the slain. The military retired to the market-house, where flogging and hanging continued. At the green, when all was hushed, soldiers' wives came to rifle the mangled corpses. One poor fellow who was only wounded resisted, and was killed.

3. Emmet's execution and MacNally's betrayal

   Dublin · city · Dublin · 1803

   Robert Emmet was tried at the Special Commission with Leonard MacNally, secretly in government pay, acting as his defence counsel while receiving a £100 payment from Secret Service funds around the time of the trial. Emmet was found guilty and executed, with MacNally visiting him the morning of his execution while feigning affection.

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   Money Book. This retainer doubtless overbalanced poor Emmet's fee. The gifted young Irishman was found guilty, and executed. No one is permitted to see him in prison but MacNally, who pays him a visit on the morning of his execution, addresses him as " Kobert," and shows him every manifestation of affection. On the 25th August 1803, " Mr Pollock, for L. M., £1000," is also recorded. Sometimes MacNally signed the receipts for Secret Service Money "J. W. ;" but besides that the writing in these documents is identical with his acknowledged autograph, the clerk's endorsement, "L. M. N." leaves no room for doubt. The original receipts were kindly shown to us in 1854 by Dr Madden.

   The masterly manner in which MacNally fortified his duplicity is worthy of attention. Persons usually the most clear-sighted regarded him as a paragon of purity and worth. Defending Finney, in conjunction with PhUpot Curran, the latter, giving way to the impulse of his generous feelings, threw his arm over the shoulder of Mac- Nally, and, with emotion, said, " My old and excellent friend, I have long known and respected the honesty of your heart, but never until this occasion was I acquainted with the extent of your abilities. I am not in the habit of paying compliments where they are undeserved." Tears fell from Mr Curran as he hung over his friend.* Nineteen years after, Curran died with the illusion undispelled. From the Freeman's Journal oi Octohei 13, 1817, we gather that Judge Burton wrote from London to MacNally, as the old and tried friend of Curran, to announce the approaching death of the great patriot.t

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 83

   As the companion tells it

   Dublin in 1803 was the setting for one of the most chilling betrayals in Irish history. Robert Emmet was tried at the Special Commission here, and his defence counsel was Leonard MacNally, a man secretly in the pay of the government. Around the time of the trial, MacNally received a payment from Secret Service funds. Emmet was found guilty and executed. On the morning of the execution, MacNally visited him in prison, addressing him as "Robert" and showing every manifestation of affection, all while working for the very authorities who had condemned him. The receipts for the Secret Service Money were shown years later, in 1854, by Dr Madden, and though MacNally sometimes signed them "J. W.," the clerk's endorsement left no doubt it was him. What makes it worse is how completely he deceived those around him. Even Phillipot Curran, defending a case alongside him, threw his arm over MacNally's shoulder and spoke of "the honesty of your heart," with tears in his eyes. Curran died in 1817, nineteen years later, never knowing the truth. A judge wrote to MacNally as Curran's old and tried friend to announce the approaching death of the great patriot. The clearest-sighted people of the age regarded MacNally as a paragon of purity and worth.

4. Lord Kilwarden dragged from his coach and piked to death

   near Dolphin's Barn · street · Dublin · 1803

   Travelling from his seat at Newlands via Dolphin's Barn during Emmet's rising, Lord Kilwarden was pulled from his carriage by insurgents who mistook him for the judge who condemned the Sheares brothers and stabbed him fourteen times with pikes; he died the next morning.

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   " Colonel Finlay sent a message to Lord Kilwarden at seven o'clock on the evening of his lordship's lamented death, apprising him that Dublin was about to be disturbed by a second rebellion, and an attempt to take the Castle. Lord Kilwarden ordered his carriage, and went over to speak to Colonel Finlay on the subject, to satisfy himself of the truth of the report. He took with him into Dublin his daughter and nephew, and directed the coachman to drive to the Castle through Dolphin's Bam, to avoid paying turnpike from his seat, called Newlands, situate between Tallaght and ClondaMn, on the Naas road." [Here the usual details of the emeute are given.] " One of the insurgents asked who came there. The coachman answered, ignorant of their design, ' Lord KUwarden.' With that they pulled his lordship out, saying it was he condemned the Sheares,* and they gave him, upon the spot, fourteen pike stabs, of which he died about eleven o'clock next morning. Mr Downing, the gardener, went to see his lordship, and he heard Major Sirr say he would hang a man for every hair on his head : to which his lordship replied : ' Let no man suffer in consequence of my death, unless by f'he regular operation of the laws.'

   " This was said about eight o'clock on Sunday morning while he lay in a guard-bed in Vicar Street, weltering in his gore. As to Emmet, I did not wish to witness his execution ; but I saw the gallows erected, and a thrill of horror pervaded my blood as I observed the noose, black and greasy from the numbers it had launched into eternity."

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 98

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere about Dolphin's Barn, in 1803, Lord Kilwarden was pulled from his carriage and stabbed to death with pikes. He had set out that evening from his seat at Newlands, between Tallaght and Clondalkin on the Naas road, after Colonel Finlay sent word at seven o'clock that Dublin was about to be disturbed by a second rebellion and an attempt to take the Castle. Kilwarden ordered his carriage to satisfy himself of the truth of the report, taking his daughter and nephew with him, and told the coachman to drive to the Castle through Dolphin's Barn to avoid the turnpike. An insurgent challenged who came there. The coachman, ignorant of their design, answered "Lord Kilwarden." They dragged him out, saying it was he who condemned the Sheares, and gave him fourteen pike stabs on the spot. He died about eleven o'clock the next morning. As he lay in a guard-bed in Vicar Street, weltering in his gore, Major Sirr declared he would hang a man for every hair on his head. Kilwarden replied: "Let no man suffer in consequence of my death, unless by the regular operation of the laws."

5. Major Sirr's confrontation with Lord Edward Fitzgerald near Usher's Island

   Usher's Island · street · Dublin · 1798

   As Lord Edward Fitzgerald and his companions made for Magan's house on Usher's Island, Major Sirr intercepted them near Island Street; a violent struggle ensued with daggers and blows before Fitzgerald fled to Murphy's house, where he was arrested the next day.

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   Watling Street, and turned down at the end of Watling Street, and just at Island Street, near Magan's stable. Major Sirr stopped Lord Edward. My mother screamed out to Gallagher, who was a very powerful man. He at once upset Major Sirr ; and only the Major had a coat of mail on him, his career was ended on that occasion, for Gallagher tried his dagger on him. Major Sirr was also a powerful man, wielded his dagger, and, althouah under Gallagher, contrived to drive it through the caU of his leg. Eluding himself wounded, and fearing he would not be able to make his escape, and perceiving that he could not wound Major Sirr, he made the best of his way off, having first knocked the Major down with a box, using the butt of the dagger to assist his blow. My mother and Lord Edward fled at the first part of the fray, and as Murphy's (now Graham and Dunnill's wool-crane) was the nearest friend's place, they went into it. Mrs. Moore got home as she best could ; of Gallagher I will speak hereafter. The accuracy of the carpenter Tuite's information to Moore was soon confirmed. The next day my grandfather Moore's house was taken possession of. The famous Dr. Gahan, the Augustinian fnar, was visiting my mother, and she was seeing him to the door when the double knock came. The old priest in his humUity stood partly behind the door to allow whoever it was to enter. A captain, a sergeant, and a large number of soldiers rushed in. They seized the poor old priest, and by the queue or pigtail, the then mode of wearing the hair, tied him up to a beam ia the wareroom off the shop. My mother cut him down. She then remembered that the committee or council of the United Irishmen were sitting at a house in James's Gate (the one now occupied by Mr. M'Nulty). While the soldiers were taking possession and rifling the house, she ran up to James's Gate, and informed the parties there that her father's house was full of soldiers. The father of the Rev. George Canavan, late P. P. of St. James's, had a tan-yard outside the house wherein the Directory met. Into this yard they descended through a window, and escaped down Watling Street. My mother, when returning, met some of the soldiers ; one of them recognised her, and said ' There's that croppy b — h again,' maldng a drive at her with his

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 57

   As the companion tells it

   A street on Usher's Island in Dublin. In 1798, Lord Edward Fitzgerald and his companions were making for Magan's house, turning down at the end of Watling Street, just at Island Street, near Magan's stable, when Major Sirr stopped Lord Edward. The narrator's mother screamed out to Gallagher, a powerful man, who at once upset Major Sirr. Only the Major's coat of mail saved him, for Gallagher tried his dagger on him. Major Sirr was powerful too, and though under Gallagher, contrived to drive his own dagger through the calf of Gallagher's leg. Finding himself wounded and fearing he would not escape, and unable to wound Sirr, Gallagher knocked the Major down with the butt of his dagger and made off. Lord Edward and the mother fled at the first part of the fray to Murphy's house, the nearest friend's place. The next day, the grandfather Moore's house was taken by soldiers. The Augustinian friar Dr. Gahan was visiting the mother, and she was seeing him to the door when the double knock came. A captain, a sergeant, and a large number of soldiers rushed in. They seized the old priest, and by his pigtail tied him up to a beam in the wareroom. The mother cut him down. She then ran to James's Gate, where the United Irishmen committee was sitting, and told them the house was full of soldiers. They escaped through a window and down Watling Street.

6. Executions and blood-clogged sewers at Bridgefoot Street

   Bridgefoot Street · street · Dublin · 1798

   Mass executions of rebels by beheading took place at the corner of Bridgefoot Street in Thomas Street; the blood flowing from the block clogged the sewers, and dogs were seen licking it up, prompting the Lady Lieutenant to faint and intervene to stop further killings.

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   may, the captain ordered Ms men away, and GaJIaghor was taken back to the Provost Prison until some non-masonic hangman could be got. After, or about this time, the executions at the corner of Bridgefoot Street, in Thomas Street, were going on, and the blood flowing from the block whereon the poor rebels were quartered clogged up the sewers, and some dogs were licking it up. The Lady Lieutenant was driving past, and got such a fright from ihis horrible scene that she fainted in the caniage. Having arrived home, she wrote to her brother, who was high in the then Government, for God's sake to stop this wholesale massacre of the defenceless. Her humane appeal had the desired effect ; an order came to stem all further executions ; enough blood had been shed. The rest of the prisoners were ordered to be transported, and vessels for that purpose were sent over. In one of these poor Gallagher was placed, heavily ironed. The night before the transport sailed, his young wife was permitted to see him, when his manacles, for that occasion, were taken off. His wife brought a coU of sash cord under her dress ; night came on before she left, and Gallagher held one end while she took the other ashore. The captain, as soon as he thought the wife was out of sight of the ship, ordered the prisoner to be put in irons again. When they went to him for that purpose he said, ' Can you not wait one minute V They paused, and he leaped overboard, and was towed by the rope safely ashore, before the sailors (who told the captain the man had leaped in) had time to overtake him in a boat. He was put aboard a smuggling lugger that conveyed salt to France, and in ye.irs afterwards James Moore, his former master, met him 'n Lcndon. He told him he was a wealthy hotel-keeper i Bordeaux, and the handsome landlady, of course, was '■.he person who pulled the cord with him aboard the transport ship.

   " My mother took £500 to the doctor who attended the prisoners in Birmingham Tower, Dublin Castle, where my grandfather was detained, and ^e certified my grandfather was mad ! Whether he arrives it this conclusion from his professional skill or my motheiN persuasive powers, deponent further knoweth not ; but I even heard, in tha event of my grandfather's escape, he was to be further

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 58

   As the companion tells it

   Bridgefoot Street, in Thomas Street, Dublin, was a place of mass execution in 1798. Rebels were beheaded and quartered at the corner of the street. The blood flowing from the block where the poor rebels were quartered clogged up the sewers, and dogs were seen licking it up. The Lady Lieutenant was driving past and got such a fright from the scene that she fainted in the carriage. When she arrived home, she wrote to her brother, who was high in the Government, begging him for God's sake to stop the wholesale massacre of the defenceless. Her appeal had the desired effect. An order came to stop all further executions. Enough blood had been shed. The rest of the prisoners were ordered to be transported, and vessels were sent over for that purpose. One of these was Gallagher, who had been taken back to the Provost Prison until a hangman could be found. He was placed on a transport ship, heavily ironed. The night before the ship sailed, his young wife was permitted to see him, and his manacles were taken off for the occasion. His wife had brought a coil of sash cord under her dress. Night came on before she left, and Gallagher held one end while she took the other ashore. The captain, as soon as he thought the wife was out of sight, ordered the prisoner to be put in irons again. When they went to him, he said, "Can you not wait one minute?" They paused, and he leaped overboard, towed by the rope safely ashore before the sailors had time to overtake him in a boat. He was put aboard a smuggling lugger that carried salt to France. Years afterwards, James Moore, his former master, met him in London. He told him he was a wealthy hotel-keeper in Bordeaux, and the handsome landlady was the person who pulled the cord with him aboard the transport ship.

7. Murder of the M'Donald brothers at Lemonstown

   Lemonstown · townland · Wicklow · 1798

   Ancient Britons soldiers dragged the M'Donald brothers from their family home in Lemonstown and shot two of them dead before their father's eyes while their mother watched, despite a written protection from Captain Ryves.

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   May2i, 1798.— The Ancient Britons having shot twelve insurgents at BaHymore-Eustace, came to Dunlavin the next day by a detour through Lemmonstown, in the county Wicklow. A farmer in that townland named M'Donald had four sons, concerning whom secret information had been given by one Fox, a miUer from Hollywood. The military dashed into the house while M'Donald, his wife, and four sons, Kit, John, Harry, and Tom, were at dinner, The young men were dragged out of the house, and while preparations were being made to shoot them, one of the M'Donalds was compelled to put a burning turf into the thatch of the house, and while doing so his hand was shot off by one of the soldiers. In vain did the old man proclaim the innocence of his sons, whUe he showed a written protection given them by Captain Kyves of Eathsallagh. The two eldest were ordered to kneel down, their aged parent falling on his knees beside them imploring mercy. They were murdered by his side, whUe their mother looked on, regardless of all danger from the raging fire behind her. The two younger M'Donalds escaped in the confusion, concealed by the smoke of their burning homestead. They were perceived, but escaped unhurt, amidst volleys of bullets from their pursuers, and found a safe retreat in the wild glens and recesses of Church Mountain. The murdered bodies of the young men were concealed, and on the following Sunday before daybreak their aged parents

   * John Dwyer of Donard was uncle to Michael Dwyer, the insurgent of Imalle in 1803.

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 105

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere around here, in Lemonstown, one of the darkest episodes of 1798 unfolded. On May 21, the Ancient Britons, having shot twelve insurgents at Ballymore-Eustace, came through here on their way to Dunlavin. A farmer named M'Donald lived here with his wife and four sons, Kit, John, Harry, and Tom. A miller called Fox from Hollywood had given secret information against the sons. The soldiers burst in while the family sat at dinner and dragged the young men outside. One of the brothers was forced to push a burning turf into the thatch of the house, and a soldier shot his hand off as he did it. The father knelt and pleaded, showing a written protection from Captain Ryves of Rathsalagh, but it counted for nothing. The two eldest were ordered to kneel, and their father fell to his knees beside them begging for mercy. They were shot dead at his side while their mother watched, heedless of the fire raging behind her. The two younger brothers escaped in the smoke and fled to the wild glens of Church Mountain, surviving volleys from their pursuers. The murdered bodies were concealed, and before daybreak the following Sunday their aged parents came for them.

8. Torture of Mr Wright by Judkin Fitzgerald

   Clonmel · town · Tipperary · 1798

   Mr Fitzgerald had Wright, a French teacher, dragged to the earth, kicked, cut across the forehead with a sword, stripped naked, and given one hundred and fifty lashes so severe that his bowels could be seen convulsing through his wounds. Wright was then left bleeding and suspended, confined afterward for seven days without medical aid.

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   " Notwithstanding this translation,'' observes Mr Plowden, "Mr Fitzgerald ordered Wright fifty more lashea which were inflicted with such peculiar severity, that the bowels of the bleeding victim could be perceived to be convulsed and working through his wounds ! Mr Fitzgerald, finding he could not continue the application of his cat-o'- nine-tails on that part without cutting his way into his body, ordered the waistband of his breechfes to be cut open, and fifty more lashes to be inflicted. He then left the unfortunate man bleeding and suspended, while he wenV to the barrack to demand a file of men to come and shoot him ; but being refused by the commanding officer, he came back and sought for a rope to hang him, but could get none He then ordered him to be cut down and sent back to prison, where he was confined in a dark small room, with no other furniture than a wretched pallet of straw, without covering, and there he remained seven days without medical aid !"*

   Wright brought an action and — mirahile dictu — obtained a verdict ; but the efiect of it was neutralised by the open indemnification of Mr Fitzgerald for certain acts done by him not justifiable in common law.t He received from the crown a considerable pension for his ultra-loyal services in 1798, and on August 5, 1801, was created a baronet.}

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152

   As the companion tells it

   Coming up through Clonmel now. In 1798, a French teacher named Wright was seized here by a Mr Fitzgerald. Wright was dragged to the earth, kicked, and cut across the forehead with a sword. He was stripped naked and given one hundred and fifty lashes so severe that his bowels could be seen convulsing through his wounds. Fitzgerald ordered the waistband of Wright's breeches cut open so that fifty more lashes could be inflicted. He then left the man bleeding and suspended, and went to the barracks to demand a file of men to shoot him. The commanding officer refused. Fitzgerald came back looking for a rope to hang Wright, but could get none. He ordered him cut down and sent to prison, where he was confined for seven days in a small dark room on straw, without medical aid. Wright brought an action and obtained a verdict, but it was neutralised when the crown indemnified Fitzgerald. He received a considerable pension for his services, and on August 5, 1801, was created a baronet.

9. Judkin Fitzgerald flogs innocent tradesman Doyle in Carrick

   Carrick-on-Suir · town · Tipperary · 1798

   Mr Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald, high sheriff of Tipperary, seized Doyle, a respectable tradesman in Carrick, in the street and had him tied to a whipping-post where he received one hundred lashes, then fifty more after his breeches were removed. Doyle's entire innocence was afterwards proved, but a packed Orange jury at Clonmel assizes acquitted the high sheriff.

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   be to ■write the history of the whole, and we are spared the painful necessity of detailing, ad nauseam, scenes of revolting barbarity. As a specimen of his magisterial colleagues and contemporaries, take Mr Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald, high sheriff for the county of Tipperary. From the trial of Doyle v. Fitzgerald, we leam that the defendant, in the street, and for the purpose of flagellation, seized Doyle, who was a respectable tradesman in Carrick, In vain he declared his innocence ; and some of the most respectable inhabitants tendered evidence in support of that declaration. Doyle was a yeoman, and he begged that Captain Jephson, his commanding officer, might be sent for ; the request was refused. He offered to go to instant execution if, on inquiry, the shadow of sedition could be advanced against him ; but inquiry was declined. Bail was then offered to any amount for his appearance, but Mr Fitzgerald would not be balked in the sport of which he had a foretaste, and declaring that he knew Doyle by his face to be a '' Carmelite traitor," tied him to the whipping-post, where he received one hundred lashes until his ribs appeared ; his knee-breeches were then removed, and fifty more lashei administered. Doyle's entire innocence was afterwards proved. He appealed at the Clonmel assizes for redress ; the facts appeared to demonstration ; but an Orange jury, packed by the sub-sheriff, acquitted the high sheriff, Mr Judkin Fitzgerald.

   Mr Wright, a teacher of the French language, employed both by public schools and private famiKes, having called »n Mr Fitzgerald, the latter drew his sword, exclaiming, "Down on your knees, rebellious scoundrel, and receive your sentence" — which was to be flogged first and shot finally. Wright surrendered his keys, and expressed himself willing to suffer any punishment if his papers or conduct revealed proof of guUt. " What I you Carmelite rascal," exclaimed the high sheriff, " do you dare to speak after sentence V He then struck him and ordered him to prison The next day, when brought forth to undergo his sentence, Wright knelt down in prayer, with his hat before his face. Mr Fitzgerald snatched the hat from him and trampled on it, seized Wright by the hair, dragged him to the earth,

   Internet Archive cu31924028122152

   As the companion tells it

   In Carrick-on-Suir in 1798, Mr Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald, high sheriff of Tipperary, seized a respectable tradesman named Doyle in the street. Doyle declared his innocence, and respectable inhabitants offered evidence in his support. He was a yeoman, and he begged that Captain Jephson, his commanding officer, be sent for. The request was refused. He offered to go to instant execution if any shadow of sedition could be found against him on inquiry. Inquiry was declined. Bail was offered to any amount. Fitzgerald would not be balked. He declared he knew Doyle by his face to be a, in the words of the source, "Carmelite traitor," and tied him to the whipping-post. Doyle received one hundred lashes until his ribs appeared. His knee-breeches were then removed, and fifty more lashes were administered. Doyle's entire innocence was afterwards proved. He appealed at the Clonmel assizes for redress. The facts appeared to demonstration, but an Orange jury, packed by the sub-sheriff, acquitted the high sheriff. Fitzgerald also turned on Mr Wright, a teacher of the French language, employed by public schools and private families. When Wright called on him, Fitzgerald drew his sword, saying, "Down on your knees, rebellious scoundrel, and receive your sentence," which was to be flogged first and shot finally. Wright surrendered his keys and said he would suffer any punishment if his papers or conduct revealed proof of guilt. Fitzgerald called him a "Carmelite rascal" and asked if he dared to speak after sentence. He struck Wright and ordered him to prison. The next day, when brought out to undergo his sentence, Wright knelt down in prayer with his hat before his face. Fitzgerald snatched the hat and trampled on it, seized Wright by the hair, and dragged him to the earth.

10. General Dickey Betrayed and Executed Near Carrickfergus Turf Clamp

    Carrickfergus · townland · Antrim · 1798

    Rebel general James Dickey, hiding for his life, was betrayed by an old acquaintance named Dillon after being found starving in a turf clamp. He was immediately tried at drum-head and hanged, with £500 reward claimed for his capture.

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    resorting to ingenious stratagems. He was built up in a turf clamp, almost dead from starvation and debility, when one day, to Ms deUglit, be recognized, passing in close proximity, an old acquaintance, named DiUon, who was like himself, in the profession of the law. The General made himself known to DUlon, who expressed the utmost commisseration for the melancholy plight in which he found his friend, and forced upon him some silver to purchase necessaries. In the course of half an hour a detachment of the King's troops appeared, surrounded the turf clamp, and dislodged Dickey from his concealment. He was immediately tried at the drum-head and hung ; and five hundred pounds, the price of his blood, was promptly claimed by a hidden Hand.

    Mr. Adam Dickey, inferring, from a perusal of the " Sham Squire," that we had access to some documents and receipts illustrative of the disbursement of Secret Service Money, called upon us, as already mentioned, and inquired whether we had seen any entry of the reward paid for the discovery of General Dickey in August, 1798, and if so, who was its recipient 1 Unfortunately, however, the receipts for Secret Service Money, and the other documents therewith connected are, owing to .the circumstance jdescribed at p. 263 ante, scattered and incomplete ; and although a payment of £100 is recorded on March 2, 1804, in the handwriting of Mr. Cooke, to a person whose name seems illegibly written " Dilton," and may be intended for Dillon, yet it does not conclusively appear that he is identical with the reputed betrayer of General Dickey.*

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 117

    As the companion tells it

    Close to Carrickfergus, in 1798, a rebel general named James Dickey was hiding for his life. He had been built up in a turf clamp, almost dead from starvation and weakness. One day he recognized an old acquaintance passing close by, a man named Dillon, who like himself was in the legal profession. Dickey made himself known to Dillon, who expressed great sympathy for the condition he found his friend in. Dillon even pressed some silver on him to buy necessities. Within half an hour a detachment of the King's troops appeared, surrounded the turf clamp, and dislodged Dickey from his concealment. He was tried immediately at the drum-head and hanged. Five hundred pounds, the price of his blood, was promptly claimed by a hidden hand. Years later, a man named Mr. Adam Dickey came asking about the records. He had read a book called the Sham Squire, and inquired whether there was any entry of the reward paid for the discovery of General Dickey in August 1798, and who received it. The receipts for Secret Service Money were scattered and incomplete. There is a payment of 100 pounds recorded on March 2, 1804, in the handwriting of a Mr. Cooke, to a person whose name seems illegibly written as Dilton, and may be intended for Dillon. Yet it does not conclusively appear that he is the same man who betrayed General Dickey.

11. Hangings at Dunlavin market-house

    Dunlavin · town · Wicklow · 1798

    At the Dunlavin market-house, men were hanged between the pillars in death agonies; one victim, Thomas Egan, was secretly cut down and survived by a soldier's wife amid the confusion of a dispute.

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    found his watch being taken from him, made a faint effort at resistance, but in vain ; the savage woman sent for her husband, who quickly settled the matter by firing a pistol into the ear of the wounded man. Another victim, Peter Prendergast, was also living, being wounded in such a manner as that his bowels were exposed. He feigned ieath, was also plundered, and thus escaped. Towards evening the bodies of those who were not already carried away by their friends were taken to the cemetery of Tournant and there buried in a large pit. Prendergast was still alive, and a woman replaced his bowels, bound him round with her shawl ; he was carried home, and lived to an advanced age. Some few persons stiU surviving have a vivid recollection of the cruel and savage scenes. An old man told the writer that he remembers his father taking him to the town on that day, when he saw men hanging in death's agonies between the pillars of the market-house. He remembers an event which it is well to record, as relieving the barbaric cruelty of the scene. One John Martin, in a fight with a soldier, snatched his sword. He was seized and dragged to the market-house to his doom. The sword was taken from him and placed on a peg in the wall. A respectable Protestant friend interested himself for Martin, who eventually escaped injury ; and while his fate was a subject of altercation between the authorities, a soldier's wife took down the sword, and unperceived in the heat of the dispute cut the rope by which one Thomas Egan, a smith, was suspended, writhing in the agonies of suffocation. He fell unnoticed to the ground, revived, and escaped to Dublin.

    The following is a list of the slain, as far as ascertained : — John Keeravan, Daniel Keeravan, brothers, Uppertown, Dunlavin ; Laurence Doyle, Dunlavin ; Martin Gryffen,

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 104

    As the companion tells it

    In 1798, the town of Dunlavin saw a cruel scene at its market-house. Men were hanged between the pillars there, writhing in death's agonies. An old man later told a writer that his father had brought him to the town that day, and he never forgot what he saw. One victim was still living when his watch was taken from him. He resisted faintly but in vain. A woman sent for her husband, who fired a pistol into the wounded man's ear. Another victim, Peter Prendergast, was also still alive, wounded so that his bowels were exposed. He feigned death, was plundered, and so escaped. A woman replaced his bowels and bound him round with her shawl. He was carried home and lived to an advanced age. Towards evening, the bodies of those not already carried away by friends were taken to the cemetery of Tournant and buried in a large pit. One event relieved the barbaric cruelty. John Martin, in a fight with a soldier, snatched the soldier's sword. He was seized and dragged to the market-house to his doom. The sword was placed on a peg in the wall. A respectable Protestant friend interested himself in Martin's case, and Martin eventually escaped injury. While his fate was a subject of altercation between the authorities, a soldier's wife took down the sword. Unperceived in the heat of the dispute, she cut the rope by which Thomas Egan, a smith, was suspended. Egan was writhing in the agonies of suffocation. He fell unnoticed to the ground, revived, and escaped to Dublin.

12. Lord Edward Fitzgerald disguised as a drover recognised at Leixlip Bridge

    Leixlip Bridge · bridge · Kildare · 1798

    During the 1798 rebellion, Lord Edward Fitzgerald, disguised as a peasant driving sheep, approached yeoman sentinel Nicholas Dempsey at Leixlip Bridge near the Salmon Leap; Dempsey recognised him but let him pass unmolested, addressing him as 'my lord.'

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    Once more it rises, disclosing the dark and stormy period of 1798. The scene is Leixlip Bridge at th« dawn of morning, with a view of the Salmon Leap. Nicholas Dempsey, a yeoman sentinel, is seen, witl musket shouldered, pacing to and fro. A young man dressed as a peasant with frieze coat and cordm-oy knee-breeches, approaches the bridge diiving before him half a dozen sheep. Accosting the sentinel, he asks if there is any available night park at hand where he could put his tired sheep to rest. The yeoman scans his face narrowly, and to the surprise, and probably confusion of the drover replies : — " No, my lord, there is no pasturage in this neighbourhood." No other words pass ; the sentinel resumes his beat, and the drover proceeds on his way.*

    ' We are indebted for this hitherto unpublished anecdote to Mr Ennis of Kimmage, the grand-nephew of Nicholas Dempsey, whose cartridge-box and sash are stUl preserved at Kimmage House as a memento of the man and of the incident. For a notice of the Veomanry, see Appendi*.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 34

    As the companion tells it

    Leixlip Bridge stands by the Salmon Leap. In the dark and stormy period of 1798, this bridge was the scene of a remarkable encounter. At dawn, Nicholas Dempsey, a yeoman sentinel, paced to and fro with his musket shouldered. A young man dressed as a peasant in a frieze coat and corduroy knee-breeches approached the bridge, driving before him half a dozen sheep. He asked the sentinel whether there was any available night park at hand where he could put his tired sheep to rest. The yeoman scanned his face narrowly. Then, to the surprise and probably the confusion of the drover, he replied: "No, my lord, there is no pasturage in this neighbourhood." No other words passed. The sentinel resumed his beat, and the drover proceeded on his way. The disguised man was Lord Edward Fitzgerald, and the sentinel recognised him but let him pass unmolested. The story comes from Mr Ennis of Kimmage, the grand-nephew of Nicholas Dempsey, whose cartridge-box and sash are still preserved at Kimmage House.

13. Lord Norbury sentences 198 to death at a single assize

    Dublin · city · Dublin

    John Toler, Lord Norbury, as a judge, passed sentence of death on one hundred and ninety-eight individuals at a single assize, of whom one hundred and ninety-seven passed through the hands of the hangman Galvin. He is described joking freely while wearing the black cap.

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    20. John Toler, afterwards Lord Norbury, it will be remembered, was counsel for the Sham Squire, in the case Higgins V. Magee. It may without much injustice be said of him, that for thirty years he performed the triple role of bully, butcher, and buffoon. His services in the first capacity proved useful to the then government, and helped him far more than his law to judicial elevation.* His old passions and prejudices clung to him as a judge ; he browbeat timid counsel ; and has been known to suggest mortal combat by remarking " that he would not seek shelter behind the bench, or merge the gentleman in the Chief Justice." His relish for a capital conviction was undisguised; a document before us mentions the almost incredible fact, that at a single assize, he passed sentence of death on one hundred and ninety-eight individuals, of whom one hundred and ninety-seven passed through the hands of Galvin, the hangman. With tiie black cap on his head, he joked as freely ag though it were a cap and beUs. " Ah, my lord, give me a iong day," craved a wretched culprit on a certain 20th of June. " Tour wish is granted," replied the judge, " I will give you until to-morrow, the longest day in the year !" Lord Norbury's charges transcend description. " Flinging his judicial robe aside," writes Mr SheU, " and sometimes casting off his wig, he started from his seat and threw off a wild harangue, in which neither law, method, or argument could be discovered. It generally consisted of narratives of his

    * Mr Toler's powers of invective were quite startling. When he jttered such language in Parliament as this, the licence of his tongue elsewhere may be conceived : — "Hadhe heard a man uttering out of those doors such language as that of the honourable gentleman, he would have seized the ruf&an by the throat, and lagged him to the dust." (Pari. Deb.)

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 68

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Dublin, this is the city where John Toler, later Lord Norbury, sat as a judge. For thirty years he was called a bully, a butcher, and a buffoon. His bullying served the government of the day and helped him more than his knowledge of law to reach the bench. As a judge he browbeat timid counsel. He once remarked that he would not seek shelter behind the bench, or merge the gentleman in the Chief Justice, suggesting mortal combat. He had a relish for a capital conviction. A document records that at a single assize he passed sentence of death on 198 individuals, and 197 of them passed through the hands of Galvin, the hangman. With the black cap on his head he joked as freely as though it were a cap and bells. A wretched culprit on a 20th of June craved, "Ah, my lord, give me a long day." The judge replied, "Your wish is granted. I will give you until to-morrow, the longest day in the year." Mr. Shell wrote that Norbury would fling his judicial robe aside and sometimes cast off his wig, start from his seat and throw off a wild harangue in which neither law, method, nor argument could be discovered.

14. Sheares brothers betrayed and executed

    Dublin · city · Dublin · 1798

    John and Henry Sheares, barrister brothers, were betrayed by Captain J. W. Armstrong, who wormed his way into their confidence, dined at their table, and even fondled their child on his knee before marking them for death. Both brothers were subsequently executed for their part in the rebellion.

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    36. Captain Armstrong. The arrests at Bond's were followed by the betrayal ai^d execution of John and Henry Sheares. To those hapless victims — brothers by blood, and barristers by profession — Oaptain J. W. Armstrong, of the King's County Militia, had, with vampire instinct, obtained an introduction through the agency of a mutual friend. Carried away by the ardour of youth and the strong revolutionary current of the time, they unreservedly expressed their projects. Armstrong fanned the flamc^ helped their plans with hints derived from military reading and experience, wormed himself into their confidence, partook of their hospitality, mingled with their families, and, as has been stated by Mr Curran, fondled on his knee the child of the parent whom he had marked out for death j whUe, to quote the reminiscence of one of the family, Mrs Sheares sang at the harp for his amusement. Armstrong received promotion, a commission of the peace, and a pension of £500 a year. Fifty-six years subsequent to this tragedy, we heard with surprise that Armstrong was still alive ! The late Maurice E. Leyne, addressing the present writer in 1854, says, " I saw the old scoundrel. Captain Armstrong, travelling by boat from Limerick. He was a passenger, and was attended by a body-guard of two policemen with loaded arms. He was the object of much observation and whisperings while on board; and as he was leaving the packet at, I think, Banagher, one of the boatmen, with vengeful malice, addressed him as ' Mr Sheares,' pretending he had mistaken his name. He was known as ' Sheares Armstrong ' among the people."

    Captain Armstrong's incorrigible longevity had heartily wearied and disgusted the Treasury. At length, in 1858, he died, after having drawn altogether about £30,000.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 73

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Dublin, this is where the Sheares brothers were betrayed and executed in 1798. John and Henry Sheares were brothers by blood and barristers by profession. Captain J. W. Armstrong of the King's County Militia obtained an introduction to them through a mutual friend. Carried away by the ardour of youth and the revolutionary current of the time, the brothers unreservedly expressed their projects. Armstrong fanned the flame, helped their plans with hints derived from military reading and experience, and wormed himself into their confidence. He partook of their hospitality, mingled with their families, and fondled on his knee the child of the parent whom he had marked out for death, while Mrs Sheares sang at the harp for his amusement. Armstrong received promotion, a commission of the peace, and a pension of 500 pounds a year. Fifty-six years after the tragedy, Armstrong was still alive. Maurice E. Leyne, writing in 1854, said he saw the old scoundrel travelling by boat from Limerick, attended by a bodyguard of two policemen with loaded arms. He was the object of much observation and whisperings. As he was leaving the packet at Banagher, one of the boatmen addressed him as Mr Sheares, pretending he had mistaken his name. He was known as Sheares Armstrong among the people. Armstrong's longevity had wearied and disgusted the Treasury. He died in 1858, having drawn altogether about 30,000 pounds.

15. Cromwell Hangs Dromgoole Chieftain from His Own Gate at Drogheda

    Drogheda · town · Louth · 1649

    During Cromwell's assault on Drogheda, the founder of Dromgoole Castle was overpowered and hanged from the silver-tipped spikes of his own gate, while Cromwell reportedly drew up his plan of Dundalk seated comfortably in the castle's drawing room.

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    Dromgoole Castle, a portion of whicli has survived the wreck of ages, and is still to be seen as an evidence of the massive grandeur of the old Irish mansion in- feudal days. When Cromwell made his incursions northwards, he met with a stern resistence in Drogheda from the founder of Dromgoole Castle. Numbers at last overpowered the Irish chieftain, and he was taken out and hanged from the spikes of his own gate, which tradition tells were tipt with silver, and Cromwell drew up his plan of Dundalk comfortably seated in the drawingroom of Dromgoole Castle, while life was fast ebbing in its princely proprietor without. Of this family there were seven sons, who, during the sack of Drogheda, fled for the safety which their native town could not afford. Some went south and some northward. The historic records of the time appear to have lost sight of this ancient sept until the wars between William and James, when one of them is again found living in stately grandeur in BeUingan Castle, with an income of £5,000 a-year, which, considering the value of money at that time, must have been enormous. But here again was experienced those reverses of fortune which seemed incidental to the family. He was dispossessed by the Williamites, and his fine property was parcelled out amongst the sycophants and adventurers who followed the fortunes of Widiam. His immediate successor in Bellingan Castle was a man named Tipping, a lineal descendant of whom is still in possession. Immediately after the Battle of the Boyne another member of the Dromgoole family settled as a bleacher of linen on the banks of the Ban, at BeUevarlie, possessing an estate of several hundred acres of land. He married a Miss Crawley, daughter of Baron Crawley, by whom he had four sons; one of these succeeded his father in the estate, and married a Miss O'Neill, the other three having studied at Saint Omer's, became physicians, the only profession then open to a Catholic. One married a Miss Magennis of Ulster, the other married a Miss M'Neill, the third never married, but lived to become a most distinguished orator in popular politics. The Doctor Dromgoole alluded to above in connection with Conlan, waa son of John Dromgoole, who remained at BeUevarlie, and nephew to the Dromgoole of Veto celebrity. Readers of Wyse's HistorM of the Catholic Association, will

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 124

    As the companion tells it

    Drogheda is a town the road passes through. In 1649, when Cromwell made his incursions northwards, he met stern resistance here from the founder of Dromgoole Castle. Numbers at last overpowered the Irish chieftain, and he was taken out and hanged from the spikes of his own gate. Tradition tells those spikes were tipped with silver. Cromwell drew up his plan of Dundalk comfortably seated in the drawing room of Dromgoole Castle, while life was fast ebbing in its princely proprietor without. The family had seven sons, who during the sack of Drogheda fled for the safety their native town could not afford. Some went south and some northward. The records of the time lost sight of this ancient sept until the wars between William and James, when one of them is found living in stately grandeur in Bellingan Castle, with an income of £5,000 a year. But here again were the reverses of fortune that seemed incidental to the family. He was dispossessed by the Williamites, and his fine property was parcelled out amongst the sycophants and adventurers who followed the fortunes of William. His immediate successor in Bellingan Castle was a man named Tipping, a lineal descendant of whom is still in possession. Immediately after the Battle of the Boyne, another member of the Dromgoole family settled as a bleacher of linen on the banks of the Ban at Bellevarlie, possessing an estate of several hundred acres. He married Miss Crawley, daughter of Baron Crawley, by whom he had four sons. One succeeded his father in the estate and married Miss O'Neill. The other three studied at Saint Omer's and became physicians, the only profession then open to a Catholic. One married Miss Magennis of Ulster, another married Miss M'Neill, and the third never married but lived to become a most distinguished orator in popular politics.

16. Hell-Fire Club murder at Saul's Court

    Fishamble Street · street · Dublin

    An ancestor of Mr Domvile allegedly lost the peerage of Santry after, at a meeting of the Hell-Fire Club in Saul's Court, Fishamble Street, he compelled an unfortunate man to swallow brandy until his throat filled, then set it alight, causing the victim to blaze to death.

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    The Duke of Wellington, when Sir Arthur Wellesley, more than once complained of the abstraction of papers from their legitimate repository. Among the curious papers alluded to by Mr Haliday, is a voluminous correspondence between influential persons and viceroys of the day, soliciting place, promotion, pay, and patronage. One letter from Compton Domvile, Esq., M.P., of Santry House, addressed to the Duke of Richmond, asks for the peerage of Santry. The Lord Lieutenant writes across the letter — " A modest request ! Answer this letter evasively. — Richmond." But the application was not, after all, very unreasonable, for an ancestor of Mr Domvile's possessed the peerage of Santry, which he lost, according to O'Reilly's " Reminiscences of an Emigrant MUesian," * from having at a meeting of the Hell-Fire Club, in Saul's Court, Fishamble Street, compelled an unfortunate man to swallow brandy until his throat filled to overflow, when a lighted match was applied, and the suiferwr slowly blazed into eternity! t But what little reliance can be placed upon hearsay stories, and how likely men are, after the lapse of many years, to confound the details of utterly distinct incidents, is exhibited in this " Reminiscence." Lord

    * Vol. iii., page 290.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 89

    As the companion tells it

    Saul's Court on Fishamble Street was where the Hell-Fire Club held one of its meetings, and where a story says an ancestor of Mr Domvile committed a murder. This man held the peerage of Santry, which he lost, according to O'Reilly's Reminiscences of an Emigrant Miliesian, for what happened that night. He compelled an unfortunate man to swallow brandy until his throat filled to overflow. Then a lighted match was applied, and the sufferer slowly blazed to death. The book that reports this, however, warns its reader at the same time. It says how little reliance can be placed on hearsay stories, and how likely men are, after the lapse of many years, to confound the details of utterly distinct incidents. The same source carries a letter from Compton Domvile of Santry House to the Duke of Richmond, asking again for the Santry peerage. The Lord Lieutenant wrote across it: "A modest request! Answer this letter evasively. Richmond." The application, the author notes, was not after all very unreasonable, given what the ancestor had forfeited.

17. Lord Kilwarden's final hours in Vicar Street

    Vicar Street · street · Dublin · 1803

    Mortally wounded, Lord Kilwarden lay in a guard-bed in Vicar Street through the night, where Major Sirr threatened mass reprisals; Kilwarden's dying wish was that no man should suffer except by due process of law.

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    " This was said about eight o'clock on Sunday morning while he lay in a guard-bed in Vicar Street, weltering in his gore. As to Emmet, I did not wish to witness his execution ; but I saw the gallows erected, and a thrill of horror pervaded my blood as I observed the noose, black and greasy from the numbers it had launched into eternity."

    The person who received .flOOO, on 1st November 1803, for the discovery of Robert Emmet, stUl preserves his ineognito. Dr Madden, quoting from the Secret Service Money Record, says that " the above sum was paid inU.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 98

    As the companion tells it

    This is Vicar Street in Dublin. In 1803, Lord Kilwarden lay mortally wounded in a guard-bed, weltering in his gore. It was eight o'clock on a Sunday morning. Major Sirr threatened mass reprisals. Kilwarden's dying wish was that no man should suffer except by due process of law. Robert Emmet's execution followed. The gallows stood with a noose, in the words of the source, "black and greasy from the numbers it had launched into eternity."

18. Colonel Campbell halts the torture in Dundalk

    Dundalk · town · Louth · 1798

    Colonel Campbell entered Dundalk with his Highland Watch and found men being tortured under the triangle in the street; he ordered them cut down and threatened to fire the town if such barbarity continued.

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    land Watch, and stopped the administration of justice that would be a rebuke to the most barbarous nation in the world. When the Colonel entered the town, there wer« three men preparing to receive their share of torture, one ot them under the triangle, exclaimed : — ' Oh, Saviour of the world, have mercy on me.' A bystander replied — ' Call on Seaver of the Bog, for he's the man to-day.' The Colonel's attention was attracted by the crowds of people passing his hotel windows, and upon going out, he beheld the men under the triangle, when he ordered one of his officers instantly to cut them down ; and being told that Captain Seaver had charge of Dundalk, he said that if this barbarous treatment were resorted to again, he would fire the town, adding that such conduct was sufficient to produce a revolt all over the kingdom.

    ' ' There is an anecdote related of Colonel Campbell, worthy of record, which truly illustrates the character of the soldier as a gentleman, and the gentleman as a soldier, and it will agreeably relieve the detail of torture an(? blood through which the reader has had to wade. The Colonel, who was somewhat eccentric, went out for a walk after breakfast one morning, and being anxious to avoid the hoUow conventionalities of society, he dressed himself as a servant, and went in the direction of Prospect House, now tenanted by Mr. EusseR Patteson. On his way thither, he overtook a travelling tinker, a native of Dundalk, and exchanged the usual civilities of the day, the tinker asked him was he going far that road % ' I'm going up to this gentleman's house before us,' said the disguised Colonel, ' to look for a situation as butler, and if I don't succeed there, I must go further.' ' Ai, my poor fellow,' said the tinker, ' a gentleman's servant is very good as long as he has a master, but when he hasn't, it's a mighty bad trade to tramp with.' After some further conversation they arrived at a public-house known as 'Hole-in-the-wall.' ' Come in here, at all events,' said the tinker, ' I have as much as wUl stand a treat, and you'll have luck after it.' The Colonel hesitated, saying it was too bad to put a pool man like him to such expense. ' Nonsense,' said the tinker, 'the next village I go to, I'U earn as much as will pay my way.' Accordingly they went in, and had a glass

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 128

    As the companion tells it

    In 1798, Dundalk saw a soldier step against cruelty in its own streets. Colonel Campbell entered the town with his Highland Watch. Three men were being prepared for torture, and one, already under the triangle, cried out: 'Oh, Saviour of the world, have mercy on me.' A bystander answered: 'Call on Seaver of the Bog, for he's the man to-day.' Campbell noticed crowds passing his hotel windows and went out. He saw the men under the triangle and ordered one of his officers to cut them down instantly. Told that Captain Seaver had charge of the town, he said that if this barbarous treatment were resorted to again, he would fire the town, adding that such conduct was sufficient to produce a revolt all over the kingdom. There is another story told of him. He was somewhat eccentric. One morning after breakfast he dressed himself as a servant and walked toward Prospect House, tenanted by Mr. Russell Patteson. On the way he overtook a travelling tinker from the town. The tinker asked was he going far. The disguised Colonel said: 'I'm going up to this gentleman's house before us, to look for a situation as butler, and if I don't succeed there, I must go further.' The tinker replied: 'Ai, my poor fellow, a gentleman's servant is very good as long as he has a master, but when he hasn't, it's a mighty bad trade to tramp with.' They came to a public-house called 'Hole-in-the-wall.' The tinker said: 'Come in here, at all events, I have as much as will stand a treat, and you'll have luck after it.' The Colonel hesitated, but the tinker insisted, and they went in and had a glass.

19. Dillon's Suicide Decades After Alleged Betrayal

    near Cullybackey · town · Antrim · 1827

    Attorney Dillon, suspected by the Dickey family of having betrayed General James Dickey to his death, was later found dead in his own study, having committed suicide in a pool of blood, shortly after showing unusual kindness to Dickey's descendant.

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    ill the year 1827, he obtained an interview with Dillon, in reference to an advertisement which appeared from him offering money to lend on unexceptionable security. James Dickey's property had passed under the axe of attainder, and some of his descendants, owing to costly litigation, were obliged to borrow. Adam Dickey found the attorney, DUlon, in his study — an old bent man, who, the mement he learned his name, gazed upon him with melancholy interest. He promised to do what he could in furtherance of his visiter's object. The latter having caUed again in a few weeks to complete the mortgage, he found that costs out of pocket, to the extent of £40, had been incurred — chiefly the result of searches made in the Eegistry of Deeds Office. " I forgive those costs," said Dillon, again bestowing a look sadly expressive of interest upon Adam Dickey, " I have known members of your family well, and it affords me singular pleasure to have an opportunity of doing you a substantial service." The old man spoke cautiously — he did not use the word "restitution." He, however, seemed visibly affected, especially when expressions of gratitude fell from Adam Dickey's lips ; he cast a lingering look after his youthful client • Dickey was requested to call again, and having done so, he learned, to his dismay, that Mr. Dillon, soon after the interview in question, had been found in the midst of an enormous pool of blood — the result of suicide committed in his own study !

    Adam Dickey apprised his father of the catastrophe, who simply said — " It would have been well for James Dickey if DUlon had put a period to his existence nine-and-twenty years sooner." This was the first intimation Adam Dickey had received of the family suspicion, that Dillon had betrayed his friend, and the idea, coupled with the circumstances which had recently come within his own knowledge, moved him deeply ; and the retrospect to this day, evokes conflicting emotions.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 118

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through or near Cullybackey, in Antrim, there is a story that begins with kindness and ends with a death. In the year 1827, Adam Dickey, whose family had lost property under the axe of attainder and fallen into costly litigation, sought out an attorney named Dillon, who had advertised money to lend on good security. He found him in his study, an old bent man. The moment Dillon learned the young man's name, he gazed at him with melancholy interest and promised to do what he could. When Adam returned weeks later to complete the mortgage, costs of 40 pounds had been incurred, chiefly from searches in the Registry of Deeds Office. Dillon forgave them. "I have known members of your family well," he said, "and it affords me singular pleasure to have an opportunity of doing you a substantial service." He spoke cautiously and never used the word restitution. He seemed visibly affected when Adam thanked him, and cast a lingering look after his youthful client. He asked him to call again. When Adam did, he learned that Dillon had been found in the midst of an enormous pool of blood, the result of suicide committed in his own study, soon after their interview. Adam told his father. His father said only, "It would have been well for James Dickey if Dillon had put a period to his existence nine-and-twenty years sooner." That was the first intimation Adam had received of the family suspicion, that Dillon had betrayed his friend, General James Dickey, to his death.

20. Lord Santry's murder trial at Palmerstown

    Palmerstown · street · Dublin · 1738

    Lord Santry was tried by his peers for having stabbed a man named Loughlin Murphy at the village of Palmerstown, who died of his wound on September 25th, 1738; Santry was sentenced to death but reportedly pardoned after his cousin threatened Dublin's water supply.

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    Stinlry was tried by his peers, not for the above diabolical escapade, which, we believe, he never committed, but for having, at the village of Palmerstown, stabbed a man named Loughiin Murphy, "who died of his wound on Septembel 25th, 1738. The report of his trial is now before us. Lord San try was sentenced to o'eath; but there is an authentic tradition to the effect, that his cousin, Mr Compton Domvile, having threatened to deprive Dublin of water, the noble convict's life was pardoned by the viceroy. The title, however, was forfeited, and Lord Santry's estates passed to Sir Compton Domvile.

    It may be asked, how Mr Domvile could deprive Dublin of water. The supply came from the Dodder at Templeogue, and ran through the Domvile property. By damming up or turning off this stream, which then was the sole conduit of supply to the Earl of Meath's Liberty and Dublin city, formidable inconveniences could not fail to arise.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 90

    As the companion tells it

    A village in Dublin, Palmerstown was where Lord Santry stabbed a man named Loughlin Murphy, who died of his wound on September 25th, 1738. Lord Santry was tried by his peers and sentenced to death. But there is an authentic tradition that his cousin, Mr Compton Domvile, threatened to deprive Dublin of water, and the noble convict's life was pardoned by the viceroy. The title, however, was forfeited, and Lord Santry's estates passed to Sir Compton Domvile. Dublin's water supply came from the Dodder at Templeogue, and ran through the Domvile property. By damming up or turning off this stream, which was the sole conduit of supply to the Earl of Meath's Liberty and Dublin city, formidable inconveniences could not fail to arise.

21. Magee's Olympic pig hunt devastates Lord Clonmel's demesne at Temple Hill

    Temple Hill · street · Dublin · 1789

    John Magee bought land adjoining Lord Clonmel's villa (Neptune, later Temple Hill) near Blackrock, naming it Fiat Hall, and staged a huge public fete featuring a pig-chase that saw thousands of spectators rampage through Clonmel's ornamental grounds, ruining the demesne.

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    Another pen, more powerful but not more accurate than Lord Oloncurry's, tells us that " Lord Clonmel retreated like a harpooned leviathan — the barb was in his back, and Magee held the cordage. He made the life of his enemy a burden to him. Wherever he went, he was lampooned by a ballad-singer, or laughed at by the populace. Nor was Magee's arsenal composed exclusively of paper ammunition. He rented a field bordering his lordship's highly-improved and decorated demesne. He advertised, month after month, that on such a day he would exhibit in this field a grand Olympic pig hunt; that the people, out of gratitude for their patronage of his newspaper, should be gratuitous spectators of this revived classical amusement ; and that he was determined to make so amazing a provision of whisky and porter, that if any man went home thirsty, it should be his own fault. The plan completely succeeded. Hundreds and thousands assembled ; every man did justice to his entertainer's hospitality ; and his lordship's magnificent demesne, uprooted and desolate, next day exhibited nothing but the ruins of the Olympic pig hunt." * So far Mr Phillips, t The Court of King's Bench had not yet opened for term, and Lord Clonmel was tranquilly

    * Cuiran and his Contemporaries, by Charles Phillips, p. 37.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 29

    As the companion tells it

    A villa and demesne at Temple Hill, once called Neptune, near Blackrock in Dublin. Lord Clonmel retreated, as one writer put it, "like a harpooned leviathan — the barb was in his back, and Magee held the cordage." John Magee made his enemy's life a burden. Wherever Clonmel went, he was lampooned by a ballad-singer or laughed at by the populace. Magee rented a field bordering his lordship's highly improved and decorated demesne. He advertised, month after month, that on a given day he would exhibit a grand Olympic pig hunt. The people, out of gratitude for their patronage of his newspaper, should be gratuitous spectators of this revived classical amusement. He was determined to make such amazing provision of whisky and porter that if any man went home thirsty, it should be his own fault. The plan completely succeeded. Hundreds and thousands assembled. Every man did justice to his entertainer's hospitality. Lord Clonmel's magnificent demesne, uprooted and desolate, next day exhibited nothing but the ruins of the Olympic pig hunt.

22. Soldiers seize Moore's house on Thomas Street and assault priest

    Thomas Street · street · Dublin · 1798

    Soldiers rushed into James Moore's house on Thomas Street looking for Lord Edward Fitzgerald, seized the elderly priest Dr Gahan by his pigtail and tied him to a beam; Mrs Moore cut him down before fleeing to warn the United Irishmen's council.

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    Watling Street, and turned down at the end of Watling Street, and just at Island Street, near Magan's stable. Major Sirr stopped Lord Edward. My mother screamed out to Gallagher, who was a very powerful man. He at once upset Major Sirr ; and only the Major had a coat of mail on him, his career was ended on that occasion, for Gallagher tried his dagger on him. Major Sirr was also a powerful man, wielded his dagger, and, althouah under Gallagher, contrived to drive it through the caU of his leg. Eluding himself wounded, and fearing he would not be able to make his escape, and perceiving that he could not wound Major Sirr, he made the best of his way off, having first knocked the Major down with a box, using the butt of the dagger to assist his blow. My mother and Lord Edward fled at the first part of the fray, and as Murphy's (now Graham and Dunnill's wool-crane) was the nearest friend's place, they went into it. Mrs. Moore got home as she best could ; of Gallagher I will speak hereafter. The accuracy of the carpenter Tuite's information to Moore was soon confirmed. The next day my grandfather Moore's house was taken possession of. The famous Dr. Gahan, the Augustinian fnar, was visiting my mother, and she was seeing him to the door when the double knock came. The old priest in his humUity stood partly behind the door to allow whoever it was to enter. A captain, a sergeant, and a large number of soldiers rushed in. They seized the poor old priest, and by the queue or pigtail, the then mode of wearing the hair, tied him up to a beam ia the wareroom off the shop. My mother cut him down. She then remembered that the committee or council of the United Irishmen were sitting at a house in James's Gate (the one now occupied by Mr. M'Nulty). While the soldiers were taking possession and rifling the house, she ran up to James's Gate, and informed the parties there that her father's house was full of soldiers. The father of the Rev. George Canavan, late P. P. of St. James's, had a tan-yard outside the house wherein the Directory met. Into this yard they descended through a window, and escaped down Watling Street. My mother, when returning, met some of the soldiers ; one of them recognised her, and said ' There's that croppy b — h again,' maldng a drive at her with his

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 57

    As the companion tells it

    In 1798, soldiers seized James Moore's house on Thomas Street in Dublin. The trouble began the day before, when Major Sirr stopped Lord Edward Fitzgerald near Watling Street. Gallagher, a powerful man, threw Major Sirr to the ground. Major Sirr wore a coat of mail. Gallagher tried his dagger on him, but Major Sirr drove his own dagger through the calf of Gallagher's leg. Gallagher knocked the Major down with the butt of his dagger and made his escape. Lord Edward and Moore's daughter fled into Murphy's wool-crane, the nearest friend's place. The next day, Moore's house was taken. Dr Gahan, the Augustinian friar, was visiting Moore's daughter, and she was seeing him to the door when a double knock came. The old priest stood partly behind the door. A captain, a sergeant, and a large number of soldiers rushed in. They seized the priest by his pigtail and tied him to a beam in the wareroom off the shop. Moore's daughter cut him down. She then remembered that the council of the United Irishmen were sitting at a house in James's Gate. While the soldiers rifled the house, she ran there and told them her father's house was full of soldiers. The father of the Reverend George Canavan had a tan-yard outside the house where the Directory met. They climbed down through a window and escaped down Watling Street. On her way back, Moore's daughter met soldiers. One recognised her and said, in the words of the source, "There's that croppy b — h again," and made a drive at her.

23. The grass-grown grave at Glasnevin said to be Emmet's true resting place

    Glasnevin · townland · Dublin · 1803

    A clergyman's son recounted that his father, incumbent at Glasnevin, was roused at night to perform a secret burial service for Emmet, attended by only four mourners including Sarah Curran, with the body brought through a small gate from Delville demesne into the old churchyard.

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    " It was not in Michan's churchyard," he said, " but in Glasnevin, and I speak on the best authority, for my late father was the incumbent there at the time, and I repeatedly heard him say that he was brought out of his bed at the dead of night to perform the burial service over Emmet. There were only four persons present, two women and two men. One of the men he understood to be Dowdall, the natural son of Hussy Burgh, and one of the ladies Sarah Curran, who had been betrothed to Emmet. The corpse was conveyed through '»• littip w'aa'ow door leading into th«

    300 APPENDIX.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 100

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Glasnevin there is a grass-grown grave said to be the true resting place of Robert Emmet. A clergyman's son recounted that his father, the incumbent here, was roused from his bed at the dead of night in 1803 to perform a secret burial service over Emmet. Only four mourners were present: two men and two women. One of the women was Sarah Curran, who had been betrothed to Emmet, and one of the men was understood to be Dowdall, the natural son of Hussy Burgh. The body was brought through a small gate from Delville demesne into the old churchyard.

24. Exhumation of Brennan's body from the bog of Narraghmore

    Narraghmore · townland · Kildare · 1798–1813

    In 1813, a young man exhumed his father's well-preserved corpse from the bog of Narraghmore, where it had lain for fifteen years after being shot during the 1798 skirmish known as the 'battle of the bog road'; he was guided by recurring dreams of his father.

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    In the summer of 1813, my informant went with hx Bervants to draw home turf from the bog of Narraghmore. While they were loading their carts, a respectable young man was seen to approach, attended by a servant, who led into the bog a dray and horse, in which was a co£Bn with some spades for digging. The young man seemed to look anxiously about him, and after some time began to open the surface of the bog. This very strange proceeding excited the curiosity of the informant, who with his men came to the place where the stranger was excavating. His labours soon unravelled to some degree the mystery of the coffin. A corpse in perfect preservation lay exposed, but of a tallow-coloured hue, owing to the mode and place of burial. The corpse was placed in the coffin, and the young man, before returning homewards with it, told those present that it was the body of his father, who was shot in the "battle of the bog road" in the year 1798. He also told them that from time to time in his dreams he thought he saw his father come to his bedside, telling him to remove his remains, intimating also where they lay. Urged by the vividness and frequency of these nocturnal warnings, he at last came to the resolution to remove the remains to be mingled with their kindred dust in some cemetery in the neighbourhood of Kilkenny. The young man's name was Brennanj his father was an extensive carrier, and at the time of the skirmish happened to be coming from Dublin to Kilkenny with seven drays laden with merchandise. He was met on the bog road at Narraghmore, was detained by the military, his drays and horses drawn up for a barrier, from behind which they fired on the insurgents. Poor Brennan fell by a random buUet, and his mangled body found a hastily-made grave, where it lay for fifteen years, until removed for Christian interment, by the hands of a devoted child, from its lone and nameless grave in the bog of Narraghmore. IV. In the August of '98, some yeomen passed through

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 105

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Narraghmore, in the summer of 1813, a man drawing turf from the bog saw a strange sight. A respectable young man came out onto the bog with a servant, a dray and horse, a coffin, and spades for digging. He looked anxiously about him, and after some time began to open the surface of the bog. The turf-cutters came over to see what he was doing. His labours soon exposed a corpse in perfect preservation, tallow-coloured from the bog. The young man placed the body in the coffin, and before leaving he told those present that it was his father, shot in the battle of the bog road in 1798. He said that from time to time in his dreams he thought he saw his father come to his bedside, telling him to remove his remains, and showing him where they lay. Urged by the vividness and frequency of these dreams, he resolved to remove the remains to be buried among their kindred in a cemetery near Kilkenny. The young man's name was Brennan. His father had been an extensive carrier, and at the time of the skirmish was coming from Dublin to Kilkenny with seven drays laden with merchandise. He was met on the bog road at Narraghmore and detained by the military. His drays and horses were drawn up as a barrier, and from behind them they fired on the insurgents. Brennan fell by a random bullet. His mangled body found a hastily-made grave in the bog, where it lay for fifteen years, until his son came to take it for Christian burial.

25. Lord Clonmel flees Temple Hill for the Castle in terror

    Temple Hill · street · Dublin · 1789

    Terrified by the mob at his Fiat Hill event, Lord Clonmel fled by post-chaise down Fiat Hill from his residence at Temple Hill to Dublin Castle, where he swore the country south of Dublin was in insurrection and demanded suspension of Habeas Corpus.

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    rasticating at Temple Hill. Pallid with consteiv nation, he rang an alarm-bell, and ordered his postchaise, with four of the fleetest horses in his stable, to the door. The chief-justice bounded into the chariot with an energy aknost incompatible with his years ; the postilions plied their whips ; the chaise rattled amid clouds of dust down Fiat Hill ; the mob, with deafening yells, followed close behind. Lord Clomnel, almost speechless with terror, repaired to the castle, sought the viceroy, swore " by tJie Eternal " * that aU the country south of Dublin was in a state of insurrection ; implored his Excellency to summon the Privy Council, and to apply at once for extraordinary powers, including the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act. f

    The appeal of the chief-justice prevailed ; and on September 3, 1789, we find Magee dragged from his home by a strong body of the weak and inefficient police of Dublin and consigned to Newgate. J He was previously, however, brought before Sir Samuel Bradstreet, Kecorder of Dublin, on the charge of having announced that " there would be thirty thousand men at Dunleary." The judge required personal bail to the amount of £5000, and two sureties in £2500 each, for five years,§ a demand not so easy for a printer in a moment to meet. Such mandates as these, amounting in some instances to perpetual imprisonment, soon brought but too fatally the administration of justice into contempt.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 29

    As the companion tells it

    In 1789, Lord Clonmel was at Temple Hill. Pallid with consternation, he rang an alarm-bell, and ordered his post-chaise, with 4 of the fleetest horses in his stable, to the door. The chief-justice bounded into the chariot with an energy almost incompatible with his years. The postilions plied their whips; the chaise rattled amid clouds of dust down Fiat Hill; the mob, with deafening yells, followed close behind. Lord Clonmel, almost speechless with terror, repaired to the castle, sought the viceroy, and swore "by the Eternal" that all the country south of Dublin was in a state of insurrection. He implored his Excellency to summon the Privy Council, and to apply at once for extraordinary powers, including the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act. The appeal of the chief-justice prevailed. On September 3, 1789, Magee was dragged from his home by a strong body of the weak and inefficient police of Dublin and consigned to Newgate. He had been brought before Sir Samuel Bradstreet, Recorder of Dublin, on the charge of having announced that "there would be 30,000 men at Dunleary." The judge required personal bail to the amount of £5000, and 2 sureties in £2500 each, for 5 years, a demand not easy for a printer to meet in a moment. Such mandates as these, amounting in some instances to perpetual imprisonment, soon brought the administration of justice into contempt.

26. Lord Kingsborough nearly hanged at the Bull's Ring, Wexford

    Wexford · town · Wexford · 1798

    Lord Kingsborough, captured by rebels holding Wexford town during the 1798 rebellion, was about to be hanged with an English officer at 'The Bull's Ring' when they pledged to Mr Plunket that they would return the favour if liberated. Lord Kingsborough later refused to honour this pledge when Plunket was court-martialled.

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    Lord Castlereagh admitted, aimed to make the United Iriab coEspiracy explode.* When the rebellion broke out, Lord Kingsborough, as colonel of the North Cork Militia, proceeded to join his regiment in Wexford, but was captured by the rebels, who held possession of the town. Mr Plowden, in his History, states that Lord Kingsborough owed his life to the personal interposition of Dr Caulfield, Eoman Catholic Bishop of Ferns. But from a statement made to us by John Plunket, Esq., of Frescati, whose father held rank in the rebel army at Wexford, it would appear that Lord Kingsborough's deliverance was not whoUy owing to the Bishop.. Lord Kingsborough and an English officer were about to be hung at " The Bull's Eing," when they pledged their honour to Mr Plunket, that, if then liberated, they would do him a similar service on a subsequent occasion, which they assured him could not be far distant. Lord Kingsborough and his friend wrote two letters to this effect ; but when Mr Plunket waa afterwards found guilty by a court-martial, the documents could not be found. His wife waited on Lord Kingsborough to hope he would renew the letter, but the peei declined to interfere in any way on behalf of Plunket ; while the other ofiScer, whose life had been spared at the same time, honourably kept his word. Our informant adds, that Mr Plowden, when engaged on his History, obtained an interview with the late Mrs Plunket in ordei to gather authentic details of the events of which she had personal knowledge, but as they were then of recent occurrence, she declined to assist him.f Lord Kingsborough subsequently attained celebrity by shooting a person whom he detected offering undue familiarities to his sister. Lord Kingsborough, his son, died a pauper in the Four Courts Marshalsea.

    22. General Cockburn regards Lord Downshire as a rotten rung in the step-ladder, and styles him "a very mischievous enemy to liberty." We think, however, that his hostility to the Union goes far to redeem his^ shortcomings. His policy on this question so displeased the Government that he was dismissed from the lieutenancy of his county,

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 69

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Wexford town, you are moving through ground held by rebels in 1798. Lord Kingsborough, colonel of the North Cork Militia, came here to join his regiment but was captured by the rebels who had possession of the town. A historian called Plowden later wrote that Kingsborough owed his life to Dr Caulfield, the Catholic Bishop of Ferns. But John Plunket of Frescati, whose father held rank in the rebel army at Wexford, told a different story. Lord Kingsborough and an English officer were about to be hanged at the Bull's Ring. They pledged their honour to Mr Plunket that if they were liberated, they would do him a similar service when the occasion came, which they assured him could not be far distant. Both men wrote two letters to that effect. But when Plunket was afterwards found guilty by a court-martial, the documents could not be found. Plunket's wife went to Lord Kingsborough and asked him to renew the letter, but the peer declined to interfere in any way on Plunket's behalf. The other officer, whose life had been spared at the same time, honourably kept his word. Plowden, when writing his History, sought an interview with the late Mrs Plunket to gather authentic details of events she had personal knowledge of, but as they were then of recent occurrence, she declined to assist him. Lord Kingsborough later gained celebrity by shooting a man he detected offering undue familiarities to his sister. His son died a pauper in the Four Courts Marshalsea.

27. Lord Clare's insulted funeral at Ely Place

    Ely Place · street · Dublin · 1802

    After Lord Clare's death in 1802 his funeral was insulted by an angry populace who flung dead cats upon his hearse and grave; Lord Cloncurry was obliged to address the crowd from the balcony of Lord Clare's house in Ely Place to quell the hooting.

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    Memoirs it is stated, on the authority of Lord Clare's nephew, that he bitterly deplored having taken any part in effecting the Union. Plowden states that he vainly called for the assistance of a Catholic priest ; but we have never seen the allegation confirmed. His funeral was insulted by much of the indecency which attended Lord Castlereagh's in Westminster Abbey. In one of Lord Clare's speeches he declared, that he would make the Catholics as tame as cats. Dead cats were flung upon his hearse and his grave. Lord Cloncurry, in his " KecoUections," says that he was obliged to address the infuriated populace from the balcony of Lord Clare's house in Ely Place, ere they could be induced to relinquish the unseemly hooting which swelled the death-kneE of John, Earl of Clare.

    2. " Mr Foster, we learn, was for several years not only the supporter, and indeed the ablest supporter of the administration, but the conductor and manager of their schemes and operations."* He sternly opposed the admission ol Catholics to the privileges of the constitution ; but Ireland must always remember him with gratitude for the determined hostility with which, as Speaker of the Irish Parliament, he opposed the Legislative Union.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    A Dublin street with a bitter memory attached to it, Ely Place. When Lord Clare died in 1802, his funeral was met with fury from the populace. Clare had been one of the architects of the Legislative Union, and on the authority of his own nephew, he bitterly deplored having taken any part in it. Plowden wrote that he vainly called for the assistance of a Catholic priest, though the allegation was never confirmed. In one of his speeches, Clare had declared that he would make the Catholics as tame as cats. The people remembered. Dead cats were flung upon his hearse and upon his grave. Lord Cloncurry, in his Recollections, says he was obliged to address the infuriated populace from the balcony of Lord Clare's house in Ely Place before they could be induced to relinquish the unseemly hooting that swelled the death-knell of John, Earl of Clare. The funeral was insulted with much the same indecency that had attended Lord Castlereagh's in Westminster Abbey.

28. M'Cann's Secret Return to Dundalk Inspires 'The Exile of Erin'

    Dundalk · town · Louth · 1798

    Fugitive rebel Anthony M'Cann secretly returned to Dundalk in peasant disguise to visit his family, narrowly escaping capture when soldiers surrounded his brother-in-law's house; his story later inspired the poem 'The Exile of Erin'.

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    "M'Cann and Markey fled to France, where they remained until the expedition to Ireland, which sailed from Brest on the 16th December. They were in the Admiral's vessel, which was separated from the rest of the squadron by adverse winds, and landed again in France. Markey entered the French army, and died at Fontainbleau, having attained the rank of Colonel. M'Cann settled in Hamburgh, where he became a prince merchant and a popular man. After he had been in his adopted home for some time, he longed to visit his native land, and eventually carried out his wish. He landed at Dundalk in the garb of a peasant, but the disguise was not sufficient to secure him from the keen scent of the bloodhounds. He went to the residence of Mr. Philip Boylan, his brother-in-law, and that night the soldiers surrounded the house. M'Cann's sister, by an extraordinary stratagem, kept the fugitive patriot carefuUj concealed until morning, when, under the shelter which th« grey dawn of approaching day afforded, he quitted for evei the land he loved so fondly, and served not wisely but too well. It was at this time the Poet Campbell made his Continental tour, and while at Hamburgh, was introduced to the exiled Irishman. In the course of conversation M'Cann told Campbell of his midnight visit to Dundalk, the home of his childhood, which made such an impression on the Poet's mind, that shortly afterwards appeared that celebrated lyric, ' The Exile of Erin,' the hero of which was ' Croppy M'Cann.'

    " Dr. Conlan, of infamous memory, commenced hie work of treachery at this period. Conlan, who was a native of Dundalk, had been Secretary to the United Irishmen, and before suspicion fairly rested on him, he had endeavoured to insinuate himself into the confidence of Dr. Dromgoole, who held an honoured and faithful position in the Society.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 126

    As the companion tells it

    Dundalk, in 1798, was the town a fugitive rebel named Anthony M'Cann secretly came home to see. M'Cann and a man called Markey had fled to France after the rising. They sailed from Brest on the 16th of December as part of an expedition to Ireland, both aboard the Admiral's vessel. Adverse winds separated that ship from the rest of the squadron, and they landed back in France. Markey joined the French army, rose to the rank of Colonel, and died at Fontainebleau. M'Cann settled in Hamburg, where he became a successful merchant and a popular man. But he longed to see his native land, and eventually he did it. He landed at Dundalk dressed as a peasant. The disguise was not enough to save him from those hunting rebels. He went to the house of his brother-in-law, a Mr. Philip Boylan. That very night the soldiers surrounded the house. M'Cann's sister, by what the record calls an extraordinary stratagem, kept him carefully concealed until morning. Under the grey shelter of the approaching dawn, he left forever the land he loved. The writer says he served it, quoting, not wisely but too well. Some time later, the poet Campbell made his Continental tour. At Hamburg he was introduced to the exiled Irishman. In conversation M'Cann told Campbell about his midnight visit to Dundalk, the home of his childhood. The story made such an impression on the poet that shortly afterwards appeared the celebrated lyric The Exile of Erin, whose hero was Croppy M'Cann.

29. Croppy Biddy's youth and depravity in Carnew

    Carnew · town · Wicklow · 1779–1798

    Croppy Biddy, born in Carnew, County Wicklow around 1779, grew up wild and uneducated, becoming an 'avowed and proclaimed harlot' by age thirteen and an expert horsewoman who later rode with the rebel cavalry during the 1798 rebellion.

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    " At ten or eleven years of age this wayward and abandoned girl was sure to be found among rude little boys at their sports, particularly riding the asses of tinkers, when any of them would sojourn in the outlets of Carnew ; or at a neighbouring forge, where horses were usually brought to be shod ; and if she could get up on one of them, or procure any person to lift her up, she was sure to sit astride and gaUop the animal up and down the street. She had an extraordinary passion for horse-riding, and at sixteen years of age she could manage the quadruped at his full speed. Aid in the year 1798 she mostly rode with the rebel cavalry — a buxom vivandiere on horseback. Her lack of morals and indecencies are too disgusting to follow, but it win be sufficient to say, that this pampered informer of the County Wicklow, at thirteen years of age, was an avowed and proclaimed harlot, steeped in every crime that her age would admit of ; and her precocity to vice, as it was to maturity, was singular. On her own oath, she attendeaSnight meetings at seventeen years of age, where a great number of United Irishmen assembled, about two miles from the residence of her father. After the rebellion broke out, she joined the rebel army, and soon obtained a horse, and was foremost in aU the deeds of iniquity during the time the people held out in arms. But her intoxications and public debaucheries, were then by far the worst of this virago's shameless life. After the remnant of the popular army, which had reached the Wicklow mountains, were dispersed, she continued for some time with Holt. On her return home from the battle-field, she continued to speak at random of everything she saw or heard, and the more wicked the deed the more delight she took in th( recital, and with a brutal pleasure exaggerating the atrocity. In a, short time she was picked up by the ultra-

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 112

    As the companion tells it

    The town of Carnew in County Wicklow was the birthplace of a girl known as Croppy Biddy, born around 1779. By ten or eleven she was wild and uneducated, always among rude boys at their sports. When tinkers camped at the outskirts of town, she rode their asses. At a neighbouring forge where horses came to be shod, she would get up on one, or have someone lift her up, and gallop it up and down the street. She had an extraordinary passion for horse-riding, and by sixteen she could manage a horse at full speed. In 1798 she mostly rode with the rebel cavalry, a buxom vivandiere on horseback. Her lack of morals and indecencies are too disgusting to follow. The source calls this pampered informer of County Wicklow, at thirteen, "an avowed and proclaimed harlot, steeped in every crime that her age would admit of." Her precocity to vice was singular. On her own oath, she attended night meetings at seventeen, where a great number of United Irishmen assembled about two miles from her father's residence. After the rebellion broke out, she joined the rebel army and soon obtained a horse, and was foremost in all the deeds of iniquity during the time the people held out in arms. Her intoxications and public debaucheries were then by far the worst of this virago's shameless life. After the remnant of the popular army reached the Wicklow mountains and were dispersed, she continued for some time with Holt. On her return home from the battle-field, she spoke at random of everything she saw or heard, and the more wicked the deed, the more delight she took in the recital, exaggerating the atrocity with brutal pleasure.

30. Deaf and dumb girl tortured to death at chapel-house

    Wexford · town · Wexford · 1798

    Yeomanry, unable to find Father Brennan, seized a deaf and dumb girl left in charge of the chapel-house near the priest's home in county Wexford, cut out her tongue, and slowly tortured her to death on a dunghill.

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    Previous to the outburst of the rebellion there was a noted bridewell at Geneva, in the county Wexford, wherein persons suspected of treasonable tendencies were incarcerated, and from thence removed soon after to some distant place of transportation. The betrothed of one young woman and the husband of another were cast into this prison. The women were permitted to visit the captives ; they exchanged clothes, and the men passed out unrecognised. When the young women were discovered occupying the cells, nothing could exceed the rage of the local yeomanry. They assembled a mock court-martial, found the fair conspirators guilty of having aided and abetted the escape of traitors, and then sentenced them to be tossed naked in a blanket. The yeomanry carried their decision into effect. They roughly tore the garments from the young women, stripped them stark naked, and then prostrated them on the blanket which was prepared for their punishment. They were tossed unmerciftdly, amidst the brutal laughter of the assembled yeomanry. A Scotch regiment present had the manly feelmg to turn their backs. The married woman was pregnant, and died from the effects of the treatment she received. The younger girl, a person of great beauty, was seriously injured both in body and mind. Mrs Plunkett frequently said, that on the approach of the yeo manry, flushed with victory and revenge, Father Brennan, a near neighbour of hers, fled, leaving a deaf and dumb girl in charge of the chapel-house. Mortified at not finding the priest, and irritated at the girl's silence, the yeomanry cut out her tongue, which had refused to obey them, and placing her upon a dunghill, slowly tortured her to death !

    About the same time, and in the same county, thp yeomanry, after having sacked the chapel and hunted 'J'.t

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 56

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Wexford, you are near the ground where a story from 1798 took place. Mrs Plunkett said that when the yeomanry came, flushed with victory and revenge, Father Brennan fled, leaving a deaf and dumb girl in charge of the chapel-house near the priest's home. Mortified at not finding the priest, and irritated at the girl's silence, the yeomanry cut out her tongue, which had refused to obey them, and placed her on a dunghill, slowly torturing her to death. The same county saw other brutal acts by the yeomanry around that time. At a bridewell in Geneva, county Wexford, two women had helped their men escape prison by swapping clothes with them. The yeomanry held a mock court-martial, stripped the women naked, and tossed them in a blanket. A married woman, pregnant, died from the treatment. The younger girl was seriously injured in body and mind. A Scotch regiment present had the manly feeling to turn their backs.

31. Drummer wounds Lord Edward as he is taken from the hall

    Thomas Street · street · Dublin · 1798

    As Lord Edward, now captured, was brought through the hall of Murphy's house, a drummer inflicted a wound to the back of his neck during a renewed escape attempt, worsening his condition before removal to the Castle.

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    Not until a strong guard of soldieiy pressed Lore" Edward violently to the ground by laying their heavy muskets across his person, could he be bound in euch a way as prevented further effective resistance.f When they had brought the noble, prisoner, however, as far as the hall,J he made a renewed effort at escape, when a dastardly drummer from behind inflicted a wound in the back of his neck, which contributed to embitter the remaining days of his existence. He was then removed in a sedan to the Castle.

    The entire struggle occupied so short an interval that Kattigan, who, the moment he received intima tion of the arrest, rushed forth to muster the popu- Vice, in order to rescue Lord Edward, had not time to complete his arrangements.? Eattigan was a respectable timber-merchant, residing with his widow mother, in Bridgefoot Street. In Higgins' Journal of the day, we read : —

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 37

    As the companion tells it

    Thomas Street in Dublin is where Lord Edward was captured in 1798. Soldiers pressed him violently to the ground, laying their heavy muskets across his person, and bound him to prevent further effective resistance. When they had brought the prisoner as far as the hall, he made a renewed effort at escape. A drummer struck from behind and inflicted a wound in the back of his neck, which contributed to embitter the remaining days of his existence. He was then removed in a sedan to the Castle. The entire struggle occupied so short an interval that Kattigan, who rushed forth to muster the populace to rescue Lord Edward, had not time to complete his arrangements. Kattigan was a respectable timber-merchant, residing with his widowed mother in Bridgefoot Street.

32. Heads of hanged rebels spiked at Wexford jail

    Wexford · town · Wexford · 1798

    Sir Jonah Barrington recalled that, on a later visit to Wexford, he recognised the spiked heads of friends he had dined with only months earlier, all of whom had been hanged following the 1798 rebellion.

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    We wish we could be sure that Sir Jonah's dishonourable acts were no worse than pecuniary juggling. Dr Madden is of opinion that Barrington, although a pseudo patriot deserves to be classed among the informers of '98. In April 1798, he dined in Wexford at Lady Colclongh's, and on the following day with B. Bagenal Harvey. Popular politics were freely talked ; and on Sir Jonah's return to Dublin, as he himself tells us, he informed Secretary Cooke that Wexford would immediately revolt. Nearly all Sir Jonah's friends whom he met at the two dinner parties — one a relation of his own — were hanged within three months ; and on his next visit to Wexford, he recognised their heads spiked in front of the jaU !

    Colclough and Harvey were Protestant gentlemen of very considerable landed property in Wexford. Their discovery in a damp cave on the Saltee Islands, through the bloodhound instinct of an old friend, Dr Waddy, a physician of vTexJord, is invested with a painfully romantic interest. George Cruikshank has executed an effective sketch of this tragic incident.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 97

    As the companion tells it

    Coming up through Wexford now. After the 1798 rebellion, the heads of hanged rebels were spiked in front of the jail here. Sir Jonah Barrington dined in Wexford in April 1798 at Lady Colclough's and the next day with B. Bagenal Harvey, where popular politics were freely talked. On his return to Dublin, he informed Secretary Cooke that Wexford would immediately revolt. Nearly all the friends he had met at those two dinner parties, one a relation of his own, were hanged within three months. On his next visit to Wexford, he recognised their heads spiked in front of the jail. Among them were Colclough and Harvey, Protestant gentlemen of considerable landed property in Wexford, who had been discovered hiding in a damp cave on the Saltee Islands through the bloodhound instinct of an old friend, Dr Waddy, a physician of Wexford. Dr Madden later held that Barrington deserves to be classed among the informers of 98.

33. Lord Edward Fitzgerald hidden by a widow near Portobello

    near Portobello · townland · Dublin · 1798

    During the 1798 rebellion, a widow named Dillon who lived near Portobello sheltered the fugitive Lord Edward Fitzgerald under an assumed name; a servant discovered his true identity from his boots but vowed loyalty and secrecy.

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    The insurrection meanwhile, to which Earl Kussell refers as one " wickedly provoked, rashly begun, and cruelly crushed," * was hastening to maturity. Dublin and Kildare were ripe for revolt : the mountains of Wicklow — the stronghold of Holt — were like slumbering volcanoes. A great object was to procure, near Dublin, a place of concealment for the chivalrous nobleman who had espoused the cause of the people ; and a widow lady, named Dillon, who resided near Portobello, undertook to give him shelter. Before he had been two days in the house, under an assumed name, an accident revealed his real one to the servant man. In cleaning Lord Edward's boots he observed the noble stranger's name and title written in full ; and he took occasion to teU his mistress that he knew who was the guest up-stairs, but that she need not fear, as he would die in his defence. The lady, with some anxiety, communicated the circum-

    returning peaceably from mass, assailed without provocation, by drunken troops and yeomanry, and the wives and daughters exposed to every species o£ indignity, brutality, and outrage, from which neither his remonstrances, nor those of other Protestant gentlemen, could rescue them. The subsequent indemnity acts deprived of r«- dress the victims of this wide-spread cruelty." ♦ Preface to JJoore's Memoiis, vol. i., p. 18.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 35

    As the companion tells it

    Close to Portobello, a widow named Dillon gave shelter to Lord Edward Fitzgerald during the rebellion of 1798. Dublin and Kildare were ripe for revolt, and the mountains of Wicklow were like slumbering volcanoes. A place of concealment was needed near Dublin for the nobleman who had espoused the cause of the people, and this widow undertook to hide him. He had not been two days in the house under an assumed name before an accident revealed who he really was. The servant man, cleaning Lord Edward's boots, saw the stranger's name and title written in full upon them. He told his mistress that he knew who the guest upstairs was, but that she need not fear, for he would die in his defence. The widow received this with some anxiety, and communicated the circumstance onward. A servant's word, a pair of boots, and a vow of loyalty kept the hiding place safe a little longer for a man the authorities were desperate to find.

34. Soldier shot dead near Roe's distillery after wounding Mrs Moore

    Watling Street · street · Dublin · 1798

    A soldier who bayoneted and wounded Mrs Moore near the site of Roe's distillery on Watling Street was immediately shot dead by a marksman firing from a house at the corner of Crane Lane.

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    bayonet, which was screwed to the top of his musket. She stooped and escaped, but the bayonet cut her across the shoulders. There were some good shots on the qui vive. The occurrence just took place on the site of Roe's distillery, and a shot was forthwith fired from a house at the corner of Crane Lane, which closed the loyal career of the soldier who wounded my mother. He was shot dead. The official report in the newspapers next day stated that they were so near capturing the Committee or Directory of the United Irishmen that in their flight they left the taper lighting, and the wax was soft with which they had been sealing their letters and documents. I should have mentioned that Magan went up the next morning to know had anything happened, as he was quite uneasy at not seeing Lord Edward and Mrs Moore, and that he had stopped up until midnight expecting them. While on this point I may as well finish it. When Dr Madden was getting information from my mother, he asked who she thought had betrayed Lord Edward. Whether she said this to him oi not I cannot say; but just as he left, she said to me, 'Dr Madden asked me who I thought betrayed Lord Edward, and only fearing I should sin against charity, I would have said it was Magan, for no one but my mother and he knew that Lord Edward was to go down to his (Magan's) house on Usher's Island the night his lordship was stopped by Major Sirr. Poor Lord Edward himself did not know we were going to Magan's house till we set out for it. We told Magan next day what a narrow escape we had that night, and how Lord Edward had to take refuge in Murphy's. Lord Edward was arrested on the following day in Murphy's house.' *

    " Gallagher, of whom I have already spoken, was brought out for execution ; but he put on a freemason's apron, having received an intimation that the captain of the guard was a member of the craft. By some rule of their /aith, one brother cannot see another hanged. Be this as it

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    The site of Roe's distillery on Watling Street is where a soldier was shot dead in 1798 after wounding Mrs Moore. He came at her with a bayonet screwed to the top of his musket. She stooped and escaped, but the bayonet cut her across the shoulders. There were good shots on the qui vive, and a shot was forthwith fired from a house at the corner of Crane Lane, which closed the loyal career of the soldier who wounded her. He was shot dead. The official report in the newspapers the next day stated that the authorities were so near capturing the Committee or Directory of the United Irishmen that in their flight they left the taper lighting, and the wax was soft with which they had been sealing their letters and documents. Magan went up the next morning to know had anything happened, as he was uneasy at not seeing Lord Edward and Mrs Moore. He had stayed up until midnight expecting them. Lord Edward and Mrs Moore had been on their way to Magan's house on Usher's Island the night his lordship was stopped by Major Sirr. Poor Lord Edward himself did not know they were going to Magan's house until they set out for it. When Dr Madden was getting information from Mrs Moore, he asked who she thought had betrayed Lord Edward. After he left, she said to the narrator, 'Dr Madden asked me who I thought betrayed Lord Edward, and only fearing I should sin against charity, I would have said it was Magan, for no one but my mother and he knew that Lord Edward was to go down to his house on Usher's Island the night his lordship was stopped by Major Sirr.' They told Magan next day what a narrow escape they had that night, and how Lord Edward had to take refuge in Murphy's. Lord Edward was arrested on the following day in Murphy's house.

35. Violent struggle at the Archer family's Dublin door

    Dublin · city · Dublin · 1766

    When Mary Anne Archer fled home at dawn, Higgins pursued and violently forced the door of her parents' house; Mrs Archer resisted by bracing her arms in the door's iron sockets until her arm was crushed in two.

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    do not tell, ami \vc give it on the authority ot the late venerable divine, Dr Yore, who was specially connected with the locality: As soon as the marriage between Higgins and Miss Archer had been solemnised, he brought her to some lodgings at Lucan. The bride, after a short matrimonial experience, found that Higgins was by no means a desirable husband ; and having watched her opportunity to escape, fled, with almost maniac wildness, to Dublin. Higgins gave chase, and came in sight just as the poor gir/ had reached her father's house. It was the dawn ot morning, and her parents had not yet risen ; but she screamed [)iteously at the street door, and Mrs Archer, in her night-dress, got up and opened it. The affrighted girl had no sooner rushed through the Ihreshold than Higgins came violently up, and endeavoured to push the door open. Mrs Archer re sisted. She placed lier arms across the ample iron sockets which had been formed for the reception of a wooden bolt. Higgins applied his strength. Mrs Archer cried wildly for relief and mercy ; but her son-in-law disregarded the appeal, and continued to force the door with such violence that Mrs Archer's arm was crushed in two.

    On the informations being sworn, Higgins was committed to prison. We read that on January 9, 1767, the citizens of Dublin witnessed his procession from Newgate, in Cutpurse Row, to the Tholsel, or Sessions' House, at Chiist Church Place, then known afi Skinner's Eow.*

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    Dublin, 1766. A young woman named Mary Anne Archer had married a man called Higgins, and he brought her to lodgings at Lucan after the wedding. She found him by no means a desirable husband. She watched for her chance and fled, with what the account calls almost maniac wildness, back to Dublin. Higgins gave chase. He came in sight just as she reached her father's house. It was the dawn of morning, and her parents had not yet risen. She screamed at the street door, and Mrs Archer, in her night-dress, got up and opened it. The girl had no sooner rushed through the threshold than Higgins came violently up and tried to push the door open. Mrs Archer resisted. She placed her arms across the iron sockets formed for the reception of a wooden bolt. Higgins applied his strength. Mrs Archer cried wildly for relief and mercy, but her son-in-law disregarded the appeal and continued to force the door with such violence that her arm was crushed in two. On the informations being sworn, Higgins was committed to prison. On January 9, 1767, the citizens of Dublin witnessed his procession from Newgate, in Cutpurse Row, to the Tholsel, or Sessions' House, at Christ Church Place, then known as Skinner's Row.

36. Ambush and struggle in Watling Street

    Watling Street · street · Dublin · 1798

    Major Sirr and his men ambushed Lord Edward's bodyguard in Watling Street, resulting in a violent struggle in which Sirr was stabbed multiple times but saved by a hidden coat of mail.

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    Street: Sirr divided his forces, and posted himself, accompanied by Eegan and Emerson, in Watling Street, his two companions being on the other side of the street. Seized the first of the party, and found a sword, which he drew out, and this was the saving of his life. Assailed by them all, and in stepping back fell ; they prodding at him. His two friends made off. On his getting again on his legs, two pistols were snapped at him, but missed fire, and his assailants at last made off."

    As explanatory of the Major's statement, we may observe that one of Lord Edward's bodyguard was despatched usually about forty yards in advance. Majjor Sirr speaks of men prodding at his prostrate body, but does not tell that he wore a coat of mail under his uniform. Gallaher used to say that he gave the major seven stabs, not one of which penetrated. During the struggle Gallaher received from Sirr an ugly cut on the leg, which subsequently furnished a mark for identification. Meanwlule the rebel party hurried back with their noble charge to Thomas Street — ^not to Moore's, but to the nearer residence of Murphy, who had previously given his lordship generous shelter.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 36

    As the companion tells it

    Watling Street in Dublin was the scene of an ambush and violent struggle in 1798. Major Sirr divided his forces. He posted himself in Watling Street with Eegan and Emerson, his two companions taking the other side of the street. He seized the first of the party and found a sword, which he drew out, and this was the saving of his life. He was assailed by them all. Stepping back, he fell, and they prodded at his prostrate body. His two friends made off. When he got back on his legs, two pistols were snapped at him, but both missed fire, and his assailants at last made off. One of Lord Edward's bodyguard usually went about forty yards in advance. Sirr does not tell that he wore a coat of mail under his uniform. Gallaher used to say he gave the major seven stabs, not one of which penetrated. During the struggle Gallaher received from Sirr an ugly cut on the leg, which later furnished a mark for identification. The rebel party hurried back with their noble charge to Thomas Street, not to Moore's, but to the nearer residence of Murphy, who had previously given his lordship generous shelter.

37. Croppy Biddy's perjured testimony at Rathdrum courts-martial

    Rathdrum · town · Wicklow · 1798–1799

    Trained by attorney Tom King at Rathdrum's Flannel-Hall, Croppy Biddy became a paid informer, riding out flamboyantly with military parties and giving perjured testimony that sent men to trial for their lives, including in the murder case of William Inman.

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    to eternity by thut terrible death of pUdng. And now, sc far as dress and money went, she was raised to the condi' tion of a person in affluence. Mark the general contrast; she mounted a prancing charger, attired in a lady's ridingdress, vieing with, and- even outdoing, the vilest soldier, in unheard-of blasphemous language. Every sentence that she spoke was sacrilegiously sealed with some person of the Blessed Trinity. To see her as she rode off at the head of a troop of dragoons or local cavalry (for she was indulged in her romantic notions), from the Flannel-haU of Eathdrum, Ik the above attire, with a cigar held firm between her teeth, and the curling wreaths of the smoke of that plant ascending from her mouth, and fanned around her face by the bending plume of ostrich feathers that fell over the front of her costly beaver !

    " Now, good reader, you shall have a specimen of her veracity, and how far she could be depended on even on her oath. Mr. Wainright and the other magistrates and gentry of the county, had as ample knowledge of her depravity as they had of the light of the meridian sun.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 113

    As the companion tells it

    Rathdrum in Wicklow is where Croppy Biddy learned her trade. Attorney Tom King trained her at the Flannel-Hall, and she became a paid informer in the courts-martial of 1798 and 1799. She rode out at the head of troops of dragoons and local cavalry, mounted on a prancing charger, dressed in a lady's riding dress, a cigar held firm between her teeth. Smoke curled from her mouth and drifted around her face, fanned by the ostrich feathers that fell over the front of her costly beaver hat. Every sentence she spoke was sealed with some person of the Blessed Trinity, in language that outdid the vilest soldier. The magistrates and gentry of the county, including Mr. Wainright, had as ample knowledge of her depravity as they had of the light of the meridian sun. Yet her perjured testimony sent men to trial for their lives, including in the murder case of William Inman.

38. Execution of Sergeant Beatty's fleeing soldier near Mallow

    Mallow · townland · Cork · 1798

    When the militia plot was betrayed, Sergeant Beatty and nineteen implicated men fled toward the Galtees pursued by yeomen; one soldier who could flee no further asked Beatty to shoot him, and Beatty complied, with the body later interred near the Protestant church in Mallow.

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    noticed by Canty's wife stitching or sewing the extremities of their petticoats together, and Mrs Canty (wife of Canty, a cooper) expressed her astonishment. The soldiers' wives were equally surprised, and asked her did she not hear of the ridng about to occur next day. An expression of more unbounded surprise was the response. The poor Meath women expected they could fiU more than their pockets. Canty (whose son stUl lives in BaUydaheen) communicated the news to his gossip, Lover, (a convert.) Lover went to confession on that Saturday, and Father Barry refused to absolve him except he disclosed the case extra tribunal. His wishes were complied with, and both Lover and Father Barry went forthwith to General Erskine, {sic i) who lived on Spa Walk. As soon as the plot was revealed, Sergeant Beatty with nineteen men on guard for that night, (all implicated,) aware of the treachery, immediately decamped. The yeomen pursued them in their flight to the Galtees, and when one of Beatt/s men could no longer continue the retreat, his wish of dying at the hands of Beatty was complied with. Beatty turned round and shot him ! The body of this poor feEow was brought back to Mallow next day, and lies interred near the Protestant church, and Sergeant Beatty himself (God be merciful to him !) was taken finally in Dublin, and hanged. Lover had four sons. They all emigrated after arriving at manhood. I am sorry to say one of them became a priest and died a short time since in Boston.

    "The father received a pension of £50 a year for hf^ and Father Barry was in receipt of ^6100 a year until 1813,* when a dispute arose between him and the Protestant minister of Mallow, about the interment of some Protestant who became a convert on his death-bed. Father Barry insisted on reading the service in the Protestant churchyard, was reported to Government for not persevering in proofs of loyalty, deprived of his pension, and died, aiid is buried in our Catholic cemetery adjoining th'

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, in 1798, a militia plot was betrayed, and a fleeing soldier met his end at the hand of his own sergeant. The plot was discovered through the wives of soldiers from Meath, who were stitching the edges of their petticoats together to carry more than their pockets could hold. Canty's wife, a cooper's wife, saw this and was astonished. The soldiers' wives asked her had she not heard of the rising planned for the next day. Canty told his friend Lover, a convert. That Saturday Lover went to confession, and Father Barry refused to absolve him unless he disclosed the matter. Lover agreed, and both he and Father Barry went straight to General Erskine, who lived on Spa Walk. Once the plot was revealed, Sergeant Beatty, with nineteen men on guard that night, all implicated, knew of the treachery and immediately decamped. The yeomen pursued them in their flight toward the Galtees. When one of Beatty's men could no longer continue the retreat, his wish to die at the hands of Beatty was granted. Beatty turned and shot him. The body of this poor fellow was brought back to Mallow the next day and lies buried near the Protestant church. Sergeant Beatty himself was finally taken in Dublin and hanged. Lover received a pension of 50 pounds a year, and Father Barry was in receipt of 100 pounds a year until 1813, when a dispute arose between him and the Protestant minister of Mallow over the burial of a Protestant who had become a convert on his deathbed. Father Barry insisted on reading the service in the Protestant churchyard, was reported to Government, deprived of his pension, and died, and is buried in the Catholic cemetery adjoining it.

39. Human bones and gambling deaths found in Smock Alley cellar

    Smock Alley · street · Dublin · 1790

    Police breaking into a gambling house in Smock Alley in 1790 found numbers of false dice and, in the cellar, a quantity of human bones together with the skeleton of a man who had apparently fallen victim to the proprietors of the gambling den.

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    Ic^mock _Ai/ey till the close of the last century. " The police, in 1790, on breaking into a house in this alley, found numbers of false dice; and discovered in the cellar a quantity of human bones, with the skeleton of a man who had apparently fallen a victim to the proprietors of the hell."

    For the assault on Peck, described by the " Grrayheaded Attorney," we learn that Higgins " was publicly led by the common hangman through the streets of Dublin to the Court of King's Bench; and whUe in durance vile had no other subsistence than bread and water, save what he extorted by his piteous tale, and piteous countenance exhibited through the grated bars of a Newgate air-hole." *

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    Smock Alley was a street of gambling dens until the close of the last century. In 1790, the police broke into a house in this alley. They found numbers of false dice. In the cellar they discovered a quantity of human bones, with the skeleton of a man who had, in the words of the source, apparently fallen a victim to the proprietors of the hell. What happened down there, and who the man was, the record does not say. Only the bones remained, and the false dice above them.

40. James Kieran flogged for reading night prayers by candlelight

    Dundalk · town · Louth · 1798

    James Kieran was dragged from his home near Lord Roden's demesne after being seen reading prayers by candlelight, then subjected to abuse in the Market-square guard-room and sentenced to 300 lashes despite his mother's pleas.

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    were forthwith taken in, and hanged by torch-light. Marmion's remains were brought to Dundalt, and waked without a light. The funeral procession was one of the loneliest ever witnessed here, it consisted of the driver of the hearse, Friar McGuirk, and a confidential friend of the family named Patrick Grant^the people were afraid to join in it. A very respectable man, named James Kieran, was arrested for a breach of Martial Law, which was then in active operation. It appears that this young man had only returned from Newry, where he had been purchasing English bills to transmit to his father's London correspondent, and had been reading his night prayers with candle light, previous to retiring to bed. The light was observed by some of the Yeomanry officers who were prowUng about in Lord Eoden's demesne. His room was burst in, and he was dragged to the guard-room in the Market-square, where he and a clergyman named M'Quillan, committed for a similar offence, were shut up with the worst characters of the town, and subjected to aU. the indignities which a brutal and ignorant soldiery could invent. But even in this Pandemonium there was found one honest man who had the moral courage to stop such conduct. A man aamed Gray, a Protestant, was sergeant of the guard, and laving come in from patrol, and seeing the excited state )f poor Kieran's feelings, who was then only 18 years of age, said he would not stand by and see his neighbour's child treated in such a manner. ' Let the law,' said he, ' such as it is, decide his guUt or his innocence, and deal with him accordingly ; but I'U take care that none here shall lay a hand on him.' He then took him and the clergyman from the remainder of the prisoners, and kept them under his own care until morning. From the influence and respectability of Mr. Kieran's family it was expected that a powerful appeal would be made on his behalf; but a man named Shekelton who held a captaincy in the yeomanry, and several of the officers protested, and said they would throw down their arms if Kieran was not flogged. Accordingly a court-martial was held on him the following morning, presided over by Colonel Latouche of the Carlow militia, and he was sentenced to receive 300 lashes. His mother who was almost distracted at hearing

    362 APPENDIX.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 127

    As the companion tells it

    In 1798, the town of Dundalk was under martial law. A respectable young man named James Kieran, only 18 years of age, had just returned from Newry, where he had been buying English bills to send to his father's London correspondent. That night he was reading his prayers by candlelight before bed. Yeomanry officers prowling through Lord Roden's demesne spotted the light. They burst into his room and dragged him to the guard-room in the Market-square. There he was shut up with a clergyman named M'Quillan, committed for a similar offence, and with the worst characters of the town. The soldiers subjected them to every indignity a brutal and ignorant soldiery could devise. But one honest man stepped forward. A Protestant named Gray, sergeant of the guard, came in from patrol and saw the state young Kieran was in. He said he would not stand by and see his neighbour's child treated so. "Let the law, such as it is, decide his guilt or his innocence, and deal with him accordingly; but I'll take care that none here shall lay a hand on him." He took Kieran and the clergyman from the rest and kept them under his own care until morning. Given the respectability of the Kieran family, people expected a powerful appeal on his behalf. But a man named Shekelton, a captain in the yeomanry, and several officers protested. They said they would throw down their arms if Kieran was not flogged. A court-martial was held the following morning, presided over by Colonel Latouche of the Carlow militia. James Kieran was sentenced to receive 300 lashes. His mother was almost distracted at hearing the sentence.

41. Liberty Boys hook up butchers by the chin near Francis Street

    Francis Street · street · Dublin

    After being repulsed near Francis Street, the Liberty boys drove the Ormond Market butchers down Michael's Hill, captured some, and hooked them up by the chin as gruesome revenge for injuries earlier inflicted.

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    many of their opponents, the Liberty boys rushed into the stalls and slaughter-houses, captured the butchers, hooked them up by the chin in lieu of their meat, and then left the unfortunate men wriggling " alone in their glory." The Liberty boys were mostly weavers, the representatives of French artisans who, after the massacre of St Bartholomew, emigrated to Ireland. The late Mr Brophy, state dentist in Dublin, to whom the students of local history are indebted for many curious traditional data, told us that in the lifetime of his mother a French patois was spoken in the Liberty quite as much as English.* The author of_ " Ireland Sixty Years Ago" furnishes stirring details of the encounters to which we refer ; but he failed to suggest, as we have ventured to do, the origin of the feud.

    " No army, however mighty," said the first Napi> leon, addi-essing St Cyr, " could resist the songs of Paris." The Ormond boys, impelled by a similar policy, followed up their knife stabs with not less pointed lines. In one song the following elegant distich occurred : —

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    The Liberty Boys, after being repulsed near Francis Street in Dublin, turned the fight around. They rushed into the stalls and slaughter-houses, captured the Ormond Market butchers, and hooked them up by the chin in lieu of their meat. Then they left the unfortunate men wriggling, in the words of the source, "alone in their glory." The Liberty Boys were mostly weavers, representatives of French artisans who, after the massacre of St Bartholomew, emigrated to Ireland. The late Mr Brophy, state dentist in Dublin, told that in the lifetime of his mother a French patois was spoken in the Liberty quite as much as English. The author of Ireland Sixty Years Ago furnishes stirring details of these encounters but failed to suggest the origin of the feud. The Ormond boys followed up their knife stabs with pointed songs. The first Napoleon, addressing St Cyr, said that no army however mighty could resist the songs of Paris.

42. Cornet Brown shot dead in Bridgefoot Street

    Bridgefoot Street · street · Dublin · 1803

    As Henry Howley was bringing coaches for Emmet's planned assault, a scuffle broke out at Bridgefoot Street between a soldier and countryman. When Cornet Brown intervened, Howley shot him dead on the spot before fleeing.

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    taking the whole of the privy council as they sat in the Council Chamber,* and accordingly despatched Henry Howley for sis double coaches to carry six men in each coach, making in all thirty-six, with blunderbusses and short pikes that sprung out at full length with brass ferules on them, to keep them straight at full extent ; but when Howley was coming with the first coach, and got as far as the lower end cf Bridgefoot Street, a circumstance occurred that deranged the whole project. A soldier and a countryman had a dispute and began to fight. Howley stopped to see how the fight would end ; meantime Cornet Brown came up and took part with the soldier j at seeing this, Heniy Howley opened the coach and advanced to this interfering ofScer, and a struggled ensued, and Howley pulled out his pistol and shot Comet Brown on the spot, and suddenly perceiving a sergeant and a party of soldiers coming over Queen's Bridge, which caused him to withdraw and leave the coachman and coach there and then ; it was then getting late, and no time to procure the coaches. As the business of the coaches was left to Howley, none else was sent, and all things seemed disappointment. A trooper, with despatches, was killed in Thomas Street, and also Lord Kilwarden. There appeared no better way to Mr Emmet and his staff than to retreat to the country and make their escape. They had a little skirmish with the military at the upper end of Thomas Street and Francis Street, and a little on the Coombe. There were a few lives lost at their departure ; and they went out of town as far as the mountain foot. At Ballinascomey they separated. Mr Robert Emmet returned into town, and his staff repaired to the county Ejldare. When O'Dougan returned from his post, where he and his party kept the pass, and cut off

    * Mr David ritzgerald, father of the Right Hon. J. D. Fitzgerald, mentions in a narrative supplied to Dr Madden, that he walked through the Castle Yard, at half-past seven o'clock on the evening of Emmet's emeu.it, j^" There were no preparations; the place was perfectly quiet and silent; the gates were wide open ! " Charles Phillips, in "Curran and his Contemporaries," says, that on the night of Emmet's outbreak, there was not a single ball in the Boyal Arsenal would fit the artillery. This apathetic neglect contrasts curiously with the activity displayed in fortifying the Castle in 1848, and more recently during the Fenian coKspiraoy. — W. J. P.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 94

    As the companion tells it

    A Dublin street, Bridgefoot Street, was where Henry Howley's part in Robert Emmet's rising came undone in 1803. Emmet's plan was to take the whole Privy Council as they sat in the Council Chamber, and Howley was sent to fetch six double coaches, each carrying six men with blunderbusses and short pikes that sprang out to full length with brass ferules to keep them straight. But when Howley was coming with the first coach and reached the lower end of Bridgefoot Street, a circumstance occurred that deranged the whole project. A soldier and a countryman had a dispute and began to fight. Howley stopped to see how the fight would end. Cornet Brown came up and took part with the soldier. At seeing this, Howley opened the coach and advanced to the interfering officer. A struggle ensued. Howley pulled out his pistol and shot Cornet Brown on the spot. He suddenly perceived a sergeant and a party of soldiers coming over Queen's Bridge, which caused him to withdraw and leave the coachman and coach there and then. It was getting late, and there was no time to procure the coaches. As the business of the coaches was left to Howley, none else was sent, and all things seemed disappointment. A trooper with despatches was killed in Thomas Street, and also Lord Kilwarden. There appeared no better way to Emmet and his staff than to retreat to the country and make their escape. They had a little skirmish with the military at the upper end of Thomas Street and Francis Street, and a little on the Coombe. A few lives were lost at their departure. They went out of town as far as the mountain foot. At Ballinascomey they separated. Robert Emmet returned into town, and his staff repaired to County Kildare.

43. Father Quigley Arrested at Margate and Hanged as Rebel

    Dundalk · town · Louth · 1798

    Father Quigley (O'Coigley), fleeing to France via England, was arrested at Margate after being identified by a Dundalk cabinet-maker, and was subsequently hanged as an Irish rebel.

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    Conlan, which subsequent events proved, unfortunately, to have been too true. Nor was Dromgoole the only one to whom the cloven hoof of the betrayer was revealed. Mr. John Warren, father of the present John Warren, woolmerchant, went to the society rooms to be sworn in as a United Irishman ; on entering he found none present but Conlan, who was intently reading some manuscripts, which he carefully concealed on Warren's approach. The latter, moved by that instinct which so often warns of impending danger, was met on the landing by Father Quigley, or O'Goigley, to whom he told his unwillingness to become a member while Conlan should be present. " Oh, John," said the Priest, " the Doctor is as true to the cause as the needle is to the pole." "Well, sir," replied the other, "that's an opinion which forthcoming events will either strengthen or destroy." Of the truth of this remark the unfortunate clergyman had a sad experience. Father Quigley proceeded to England en route for France, but the bloodhounds scented him out. He was arrested at Margate, identified by a cabinet-maker from Dundalk, named Hatch, and hanged as an Irish rebeL

    The details, so industriously gathered by our Correspondent, may to some readers appear too full ; but their very circumstantiality gives to them an interest, authenticity, and authority which they might not otherwise to the same extent possess, and they are further acceptable to the historic student for two reasons, namely, that, as stated by Mr. Dickey, all details of the Eebellion in the North met the fate of suppression. Secondly, that Messrs. D' Alton and O'Flanagan, in 'their otherwise exhaustive History of Dundalh, confine their narrative of the incidents of EebeUion in that town to an extract (p. 205), from Dr. Madden's " United 7mA«j«w," descriptive of Napper Tandy's visit to Dundalk in 1798. We have no desire to include among the suppressors of history two such frank historians as Messrs. D' Alton and O'Flanagan ; the inference is that; they failed to obtain access to the pectiliar sources of information opened to our Dundalk correspondent, Mr. Mathews. As introductory to the following narrative, it may be interesting to premise that the Dronigooles belonged origin ally to Drogheda, where they resided >»• "rincely state it

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 124

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Dundalk, the town carries a story from 1798. A priest called Father Quigley, sometimes written O'Coigley, was caught up in the United Irishmen and their troubles. Dromgoole had already seen what Conlan was, and subsequent events proved that unfortunate suspicion too true. John Warren, a wool-merchant, went to the society rooms to be sworn in as a United Irishman. He found only Conlan there, reading manuscripts, which Conlan carefully concealed when Warren approached. Warren felt a warning instinct. On the landing he met Father Quigley and told him he did not want to become a member while Conlan was present. The priest answered, "the Doctor is as true to the cause as the needle is to the pole." Warren replied that forthcoming events would either strengthen or destroy that opinion. The priest's trust was misplaced. Father Quigley travelled to England on his way to France, but he was followed. He was arrested at Margate. A cabinet-maker from Dundalk, named Hatch, identified him. He was hanged as an Irish rebel. The details of the Rebellion in the North were largely suppressed. Even the historians D'Alton and O'Flanagan, in their history of Dundalk, confined their narrative of the rebellion in that town to an extract describing Napper Tandy's visit to Dundalk in 1798.

44. Judkin Fitzgerald mounts altar of old Latin chapel seeking a victim during mass

    Tipperary · town · Tipperary · 1798

    Tradition held that Fitzgerald, equipped in cocked hat and sword, mounted the altar steps of the old Latin chapel during the most solemn part of the mass, trying to recognise a man among the congregation whom he wished to scourge.

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    Tipperary is full of traditions of his excessive political zeaL One represents him equipped in cocked hat and sword, mounting the altar steps of old Latin chapel during the most solemn part of the mass, and endeavouring to recognise among the congregation some unfortunate man whom he desired to scourge.* On another occasion he ascended the altar in Tipperary chapel during the delivery of an exhortation by the parish priest. Mr Fitzgerald for convenience placed his three-cocked hat on the same bench which bore the Blessed Sacrament, and it was thought, at the time, an act of most singular daring on the part of the priest to remove the terrorist's hat and hand it to an acolyte.t It was said that Mr Fitzgerald used to steep his cat-o'-nine-tails in brine before operating. "I have preserved the country," he boasted. " Eather say that you have pickled it," replied Jerry Keller.

    Cox, in his Magadne, furnishes a criminatory obituary of Sir Thomas Judkiu Fitzgerald, who, execrated by the people, whom he had stung to fury and madness, sank into his grave September 24, 1810. "The history of his life and loyalty," observes Cox, " is written in legible characters on the backs of his countrymen."J The painful manner in which the lives of the late baronets of this family terminated, presents some remarkable coincidences. Sir John Judkin Fitzgerald, son of the terrorist, was drowned in the Nimrod in its passage from Bristol to Cork. His son. Sir Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald — reduced to pecuniary straits — opened a blacking manufactory, and committed suicide in the year 1864 ; and again, his son, a fine boy, hanged himself accidentally while playing with " a swing" in the garden at Qolden nLlls.§

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    Tipperary holds a tradition from 1798 about a man named Judkin Fitzgerald. They say he wore a cocked hat and a sword, and one day he mounted the altar steps of the old Latin chapel during the most solemn part of the mass. He stood there trying to recognise among the congregation some unfortunate man whom he wished to scourge. On another occasion he ascended the altar in Tipperary chapel while the parish priest was delivering an exhortation. Fitzgerald placed his three-cocked hat on the same bench that bore the Blessed Sacrament. The priest removed the hat and handed it to an acolyte, and people thought it an act of most singular daring at the time. It was said that Fitzgerald used to steep his cat-o'-nine-tails in brine before operating. "I have preserved the country," he boasted. "Rather say that you have pickled it," replied Jerry Keller. Cox, in his Magazine, wrote a criminatory obituary of Sir Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald. He was execrated by the people, whom he had stung to fury and madness, and he sank into his grave on September 24, 1810. "The history of his life and loyalty," Cox observed, "is written in legible characters on the backs of his countrymen." The later baronets of the family came to painful ends. Sir John Judkin Fitzgerald, son of the terrorist, was drowned in the Nimrod on its passage from Bristol to Cork. His son, Sir Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald, reduced to pecuniary straits, opened a blacking manufactory and committed suicide in 1864. And his son, a fine boy, hanged himself accidentally while playing with a swing in the garden at Golden Mills.

45. Liberty Boys vs Ormond Market butchers: bloody faction fights on the Liffey bridges

    Rory O'Moore Bridge · bridge · Dublin

    A long-running feud between the Liberty boys (weavers) and the butchers of Ormond Market saw pitched battles fought over days across the bridges from Essex Bridge to Bloody Bridge, leaving the quays strewn with maimed and mangled men.

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    A word about the " Liberty boys," who, as Magee records, came forward as the paid partisans of Higgins, opens another suggestive glimpse of the state of society in Dublin at the period of which we write. Between these men and the butchers of Ormond Market, both noted for turbulent prowess, a feud long subsisted. On this stronghold the Liberty boys frequently made descents; a formidable battle raged, often for days, during which time the bridges across the Liffey, from Essex Bridge to " Bloody Bridge," were taken and retaken. Upwards of a thousand men were usually engaged ; business was paralysed ; traffic suspended; every shop closed; the executive looked on inert ; Lord Mayor Emerson was appealed to, but with a nervous shrug declined to interfere. The butchers, armed with huge knives and cleavers, did awful havoc ; the quays were strewed with the maimed and mangled. But the professional slaughterers were not always victorious. On one of the many occasions when these battles raged, the butchers, who displayed a banner inscribed, " Guild of the B. V. Mary," were repulsed by the Liberty boys near Francis Street, and driven down Michael's Hill with loss. The Liberty boys drank to the dregs their bloody cup of victory. Exasperated by the " hmigliing" with which the butchers had disabled for life

    » Dublin Evening Post. No. ii96. t Ibid., No. 1726.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 23

    As the companion tells it

    Magee records that the Liberty boys came forward as the paid partisans of Higgins, and this Rory O'Moore Bridge stands among the bridges of the Liffey where their feud with the butchers of Ormond Market was fought out. Both sides were noted for turbulent prowess. A feud long subsisted between them. The Liberty boys frequently made descents on the butchers' stronghold, and a formidable battle raged, often for days. The bridges across the Liffey, from Essex Bridge to Bloody Bridge, were taken and retaken. Upwards of a thousand men were usually engaged. Business was paralysed, traffic suspended, every shop closed. The executive looked on inert. Lord Mayor Emerson was appealed to, but with a nervous shrug declined to interfere. The butchers, armed with huge knives and cleavers, did awful havoc. The quays were strewed with the maimed and mangled. But the professional slaughterers were not always victorious. On one occasion the butchers, displaying a banner inscribed "Guild of the B. V. Mary," were repulsed by the Liberty boys near Francis Street and driven down Michael's Hill with loss. The Liberty boys drank to the dregs their bloody cup of victory, exasperated by the maiming with which the butchers had disabled them for life.

46. Lord Clonmel scalded in a public bath by Magee's bribed agents

    Dublin · city · Dublin

    Magee bribed persons to turn a large body of scalding water upon Lord Clonmel while the judge was bathing in a public bath, part of Magee's ongoing personal war against the chief justice.

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    The inequitable practice of the court allowing the plaintiff three terms before requiring him to try his action, afforded Higgins and Daly the power of keeping their opponent in prison for nineteen months in default of bail. Magee, meanwhile, behaved with much eccentricity. Having sent his compliments to Lord Olonmel, with an assurance that his health was much improved since " he had got his heels out of Newgate," the chief-justice ordered an inquiry to be immediately instituted as to the means by which he had effected his escape ; but it was found that he merely alluded to the custom he had adopted of sitting with his feet cased in scarlet slippers protruded through the window of his cell. He also contrived to injure Lord Clonmel severely by bribing persons to turn a large body of scalding water upon the judge while in a public bath.* The chief-justice was a bad subject for a trick of this sort. " My size is so much increased," he writes in his private diary, " that I have broken two carriage springs." f Magee accused Daly of having killed a billiard-marker, avowed his intention of having him hanged for the murder ; and, from what he styled his " Fiat Dimgeon," sent the patentee's wife a picture of Higgins, begging she would oblige him by affixing in her cabinet " the portrait of the most infernal viUain yet unhanged, except the murderer of the honest marker." f

    Owing largely to the unflagging denunciations of Magee, the Police Board, in September 1789, attempted some vigorous reform, and at last nocturnal gambling-houses were menaced with extinction. Magee, even in the gloom of his dungeon, exulted over the threatened downfall. The " Gambler's Soliloquy" went on to say: —

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Dublin, you are travelling the streets where Magee waged a personal war against the chief justice, Lord Clonmel. Magee had sent his compliments to Lord Clonmel, with an assurance that his health was much improved since he had got his heels out of Newgate. The chief justice ordered an immediate inquiry into how Magee had effected his escape, but it was found that Magee merely alluded to his custom of sitting with his feet cased in scarlet slippers protruded through the window of his cell. Magee also contrived to injure Lord Clonmel severely. He bribed persons to turn a large body of scalding water upon the judge while he was in a public bath. The chief justice was a bad subject for a trick of this sort. He wrote in his private diary, my size is so much increased that I have broken two carriage springs. Magee accused Daly of having killed a billiard-marker, and avowed his intention of having him hanged for the murder. From what he styled his Fiat Dungeon, he sent the patentee's wife a picture of Higgins, begging she would oblige him by affixing in her cabinet the portrait of the most infernal villain yet unhanged, except the murderer of the honest marker. The court's practice of allowing the plaintiff three terms before requiring him to try his action had afforded Higgins and Daly the power of keeping their opponent in prison for 19 months in default of bail. Magee, meanwhile, behaved with much eccentricity. Owing largely to Magee's unflagging denunciations, the Police Board in September 1789 attempted vigorous reform, and nocturnal gambling-houses were menaced with extinction. Magee, even in the gloom of his dungeon, exulted over the threatened downfall.

47. Michael Sherley receives 500 lashes at Castletown

    Castletown · townland · Louth · 1798

    Michael Sherley of Castletown received 500 lashes and recounted afterwards that rats ate the plaster off his back while he lay recovering in his cell.

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    " Michael Sherley from Castletown, received 500 lashes, and often related that the rats ate the plaster off his back while he lay in the cell. The people of Castletown would have suffered severely, but for the bravery and intrepidity of the Rev. James Eastwood, to whom was deputed the power to pardon aU those who gave up their pikes to him. A man named O'Hare from Ballinahatina, known by the sobriquet of ' Captain,' was taken off his bed by a party of Welsh Horse, or Ancient Britons, and conveyed to Dundalk ; they would not give him time to dress, but put him upon horseback naked, until his servant ran after him with his clothes, and overtook him as he was entering the town. When Mr. Eastwood heard that the Captain was in gaol, he immediately came into Dundalk, and ordered the gaoler to turn out Daniel O'Hare, that he would answer for him. Such was the state of Dundalk, while under the guardianship of the Welsh Horse, Lord Roden's fox-hunters, and Captain Seaver's yeomanry, that the lash and triangle were in daily use. These revolting scenes were generally enacted in the WindmUl-yard, where Captain Seaver held his quarters. Some of the yeomen at last became disgusted with the cruelty with which the law dealt with men for the most trifling offences. On one occasion when some unfortunate offender was tied up in the triangle, some of the yeomen were told off to inflict the lashes ; they refused, and one of ihem named Kerr, a Protestant, said he would rather throw down his arms, than butcher any man, and he kept his word. This inhuman and barbarous treatment of an unoffending and industrious people received a very unexpected check — a messenger of peace came with the oUve brancL Colonel Campbell, uncle to the late Sir CoUn Campbell (afterwards Lord Clyde), entered the town with his High-

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 127

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere around here, in 1798, Michael Sherley of Castletown received 500 lashes. He often related afterwards that the rats ate the plaster off his back while he lay in his cell recovering. The people of Castletown would have suffered severely but for the bravery of the Reverend James Eastwood, who had been given the power to pardon all those who gave up their pikes to him. A man named O'Hare from Ballinahatina, known by the sobriquet of Captain, was taken off his bed by a party of Welsh Horse, or Ancient Britons, and conveyed to Dundalk. They would not give him time to dress, but put him upon horseback naked, until his servant ran after him with his clothes and overtook him as he was entering the town. When Mr. Eastwood heard that the Captain was in gaol, he immediately came into Dundalk and ordered the gaoler to turn out Daniel O'Hare, that he would answer for him. Dundalk was under the guardianship of the Welsh Horse, Lord Roden's fox-hunters, and Captain Seaver's yeomanry, and the lash and triangle were in daily use. These scenes were generally enacted in the Windmill-yard, where Captain Seaver held his quarters. Some of the yeomen at last became disgusted with the cruelty dealt out for the most trifling offences. On one occasion when some unfortunate offender was tied up in the triangle, yeomen were told off to inflict the lashes. They refused, and one of them named Kerr, a Protestant, said he would rather throw down his arms than butcher any man, and he kept his word.

48. Murder of Patrick Higgins in Dublin

    Dublin · city · Dublin · 1743

    Patrick Higgins, father of the Sham Squire, was an attorney's clerk sent to collect evidence for the Annesley trial. Arriving in Dublin late one winter night carrying valuable papers, he was believed to have been waylaid and murdered by parties interested in seizing those documents.

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    Patrick Higgins, father of the " Sham Squire," wa."? an attorney's clerk, who had been sent into the country to coUect evidence for the trial. " He arrived in Dublin from the country late on a winter's night," writes a correspondent, " and was known to have in his possession some valuable papers relating to the gTcat Annesley case, and it is supposed that he was waylaid, murdered, and disposed of by parties interested in getting possession of those papers." J

    That worth frequently fails to meet its deserts in this life, and that chicane too often makes the fortune of the perpetrator, is painfuUy evidenced in the histories of James Annesley and Francis Higgins.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 4

    As the companion tells it

    Dublin, 1743. Patrick Higgins was an attorney's clerk, father of the man they called the Sham Squire. He had been sent into the country to collect evidence for the Annesley trial. A correspondent writes that he arrived in Dublin from the country late on a winter's night, and was known to have in his possession some valuable papers relating to the great Annesley case. It is supposed that he was waylaid, murdered, and disposed of by parties interested in getting possession of those papers. He never delivered what he carried. The book that records this notes that worth frequently fails to meet its deserts in this life, and that chicane too often makes the fortune of the perpetrator.

49. The incorrupt corpse of Miss Walsh at Tully Beg churchyard

    Tully Beg · townland · Donegal

    At the little ruined church of Tullagh or Tully Beg near Cabinteely, the exhumed grave of a young Walsh family member revealed her body perfectly preserved and unspotted by decay, leading locals to call it 'The Saint's Grave.'

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    The course of some years again brought to the lonely ruined church a funeral train, bearing to that grave the chill form of another member of the Walsh family. The covering stone was removed, and the grave-digger plied his dreary task until his spade struck oe the Ud of the coffin of Miss Walsh. When the earth was cleared away, it was discovered that his sturdy strokes had shattered the roof of her frail resting-place. When the loose boards were removed a strange sight was revealed to the awe-stricken beholders. "Decay's effacing fingers" had not touched the features of the fair girl who had been so long a denizen of the tomb ; they still wore the look of calm unspotted beauty and innocence which had been their character in life, and the bystanders murmured in low tones, " She must be a saint."

    When the emotion of the grouped people had somewhat subsided, the boards were reverently replaced, the new claimant for the grave deposited, the clay, with perhaps a lighter touch than usual, flung over both coffins, the tombstone was replaced, and the funeral train departed, leaving to her quiet sleep

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 107

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere close to Tully Beg, there is a little ruined church where the Walsh family buried their own. Years after one burial, another funeral train came to that same grave. The covering stone was lifted, and the grave-digger dug down until his spade struck the lid of Miss Walsh's coffin. His strokes had shattered the roof of that frail resting-place. When the loose boards were cleared away, the bystanders saw something that struck them with awe. Decay had not touched her features. The fair girl who had lain so long in the tomb still wore the look of calm, unspotted beauty and innocence that had been hers in life. The people murmured in low tones, "She must be a saint." When their emotion had somewhat subsided, the boards were reverently replaced. The new claimant for the grave was laid to rest, the clay was flung over both coffins, perhaps with a lighter touch than usual, the tombstone was put back, and the funeral train departed, leaving her to her quiet sleep.

50. Torture practised at Marlborough Street riding school and City Hall site

    Marlborough Street · street · Dublin · 1798

    John Claudius Beresford personally directed the administration of torture at the riding school in Marlborough Street and on the site of the present City Hall in Dublin. He later defended the practice in Parliament when Lord Castlereagh sought to ignore the charge.

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    10. John Claudius Beresford, son of Mr Commissioner Beresford, already noticed, succeeded him as a member of " the Irish Backstairs Cabinet." He expressed a wish for the rebellion, that Mr Pitt might see with what promptitude it could be crushed. In conjunction with Major Sirr, Mr Beresford maintained a battalion of spies, which octogenarians sometimes refer to as "Beresford's Bloodhounds." He largely helped to stimulate the rebellion of '98 by a generally coercive policy, which was crueUy foL lowed up by the administration of torture. This was practised under the personal direction of John Claudius Beresford, both at the riding school in Marlborough Street and on the site of the present City HalL When Lord Castlereagh endeavoured to ignore the charge, Mr Beresford in Parliament not only admitted but defended the vile practice. He was secretary to the Grand Lodge of Orangemen, and infused their views into almost every department of the Irish Government. The capriciousness of popular feeling in his regard was quite as remarkable as the mercurial movement of his own chequered career. Having creditably filled the office of Lord Mayor of Dublin, his carriage was drawn through the streets by the same mob which had often previously execrated him.

    The vicissitude which marked the later career of John Claudius Beresford strikingly contrasts with his power anterior to the union. In partnership with Mr Woodmason he opened a bank at No. 2 Beresford Place, Dublin. One day the bank broke, and Beresford was a bankrupt, cut by those who had formerly cringed. A man's good fortune often turns his head; but bad fortune as often

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 67

    As the companion tells it

    This is Marlborough Street in Dublin, where in 1798 torture was practised at a riding school, and on the site of the present City Hall. John Claudius Beresford, son of a commissioner, directed it personally. He had wished for the rebellion, so that Mr Pitt might see with what promptitude it could be crushed. With Major Sirr he kept a battalion of spies people sometimes called Beresford's Bloodhounds. His coercive policy helped stimulate the rebellion, and was cruelly followed up by torture. When Lord Castlereagh tried to ignore the charge, Beresford stood up in Parliament, not only admitted it but defended the practice. He was secretary to the Grand Lodge of Orangemen, and brought their views into almost every department of the Irish Government. Popular feeling about him shifted as much as his own career. He served as Lord Mayor of Dublin, and after that his carriage was drawn through the streets by the same mob that had often cursed him. Later, in partnership with Mr Woodmason, he opened a bank at 2 Beresford Place. The bank broke. Beresford went bankrupt, cut by the very people who had once cringed before him.

51. Church-yard Wall Slaughter at Antrim

    near Antrim · town · Antrim · 1798

    During the Battle of Antrim, Colonel Lumley, Captain Gamble, and around 96 dragoons fell in a charge at the church-yard wall under rebel fire.

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    " The scene is laid where I was born, I know every name, field, and house, and part is on my family's property. The name, Hume (or Wham, as our Scottish patois hath it), is a very rare and low name thereabouts, until the advent of our late M.P., the heir of Lord Macartney, of Chinese fame, who, however, disguised it under that cognomen. The most respectable and worthy of note before, was Johnny Wham, the bellman in BaUymena, from that part, who perched himseK in the market-house steeple above his bell, and on 7th June, '98, and following days called out, as the bodies of United Irishmen appeared : — ' More friends fur Clough/ Cullybackey, or 'elsewhere.' This Sam. was probably his son or nephew, as he has 'junior ' at hia name ; doing a bit of pretended loyalty for his landlord, to show the Government, through General Nugent, the great necessity that existed for him to receive the pay, &c., as a Captain of his Yeomanry Corps, which signalized bim and themselves by running away at the battle of Antrim, when they saw Colonel Lumley, Captain Gamble, and other officers, and some 96 dragoons faU at the charge, from the rebel fire at the church-yard wall. Mr. Stewart Moore and his corps never halted their troop horses till stopped

    342 APPENDIX.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 119

    As the companion tells it

    Antrim, 1798. In the battle fought here, Colonel Lumley, Captain Gamble, and other officers fell, along with some 96 dragoons, at the charge, struck down by rebel fire at the church-yard wall. The story comes down through a writer who knew this country. He tells of Johnny Wham, the bellman in Ballymena, who perched himself in the market-house steeple above his bell. On the 7th of June, 1798, and the days that followed, he called out as the bodies of United Irishmen appeared. His words were, "More friends for Clough, Cullybackey, or elsewhere." There was a Sam, likely Johnny's son or nephew, for he had "junior" at his name. He did a bit of pretended loyalty for his landlord, to show the Government, through General Nugent, the great necessity that existed for him to receive pay as a Captain of his Yeomanry Corps. That corps distinguished itself and Sam by running away at the battle of Antrim, the moment they saw Colonel Lumley, Captain Gamble, and the dragoons fall at the church-yard wall. Mr. Stewart Moore and his corps never halted their troop horses till stopped.

52. Fitzgerald places hat on the Blessed Sacrament bench in Tipperary chapel

    Tipperary · town · Tipperary · 1798

    On another occasion, Fitzgerald ascended the altar in Tipperary chapel during an exhortation by the parish priest and placed his three-cornered hat on the bench bearing the Blessed Sacrament; the priest daringly removed the hat and handed it to an acolyte.

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    Tipperary is full of traditions of his excessive political zeaL One represents him equipped in cocked hat and sword, mounting the altar steps of old Latin chapel during the most solemn part of the mass, and endeavouring to recognise among the congregation some unfortunate man whom he desired to scourge.* On another occasion he ascended the altar in Tipperary chapel during the delivery of an exhortation by the parish priest. Mr Fitzgerald for convenience placed his three-cocked hat on the same bench which bore the Blessed Sacrament, and it was thought, at the time, an act of most singular daring on the part of the priest to remove the terrorist's hat and hand it to an acolyte.t It was said that Mr Fitzgerald used to steep his cat-o'-nine-tails in brine before operating. "I have preserved the country," he boasted. " Eather say that you have pickled it," replied Jerry Keller.

    Cox, in his Magadne, furnishes a criminatory obituary of Sir Thomas Judkiu Fitzgerald, who, execrated by the people, whom he had stung to fury and madness, sank into his grave September 24, 1810. "The history of his life and loyalty," observes Cox, " is written in legible characters on the backs of his countrymen."J The painful manner in which the lives of the late baronets of this family terminated, presents some remarkable coincidences. Sir John Judkin Fitzgerald, son of the terrorist, was drowned in the Nimrod in its passage from Bristol to Cork. His son. Sir Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald — reduced to pecuniary straits — opened a blacking manufactory, and committed suicide in the year 1864 ; and again, his son, a fine boy, hanged himself accidentally while playing with " a swing" in the garden at Qolden nLlls.§

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    Tipperary town carries traditions of a man named Fitzgerald and his political zeal. He was the figure people spoke of in 1798, equipped with a cocked hat and a sword. On one occasion he mounted the altar steps of the old Latin chapel during the most solemn part of the mass, searching the congregation for some unfortunate man he wanted to scourge. On another occasion he ascended the altar in Tipperary chapel while the parish priest was delivering an exhortation. For his own convenience Fitzgerald placed his three-cocked hat on the same bench that bore the Blessed Sacrament. It was thought an act of most singular daring when the priest removed the terrorist's hat and handed it to an acolyte. Fitzgerald used to steep his cat-o'-nine-tails in brine before operating. "I have preserved the country," he boasted. "Rather say that you have pickled it," replied Jerry Keller. Cox, in his magazine, furnishes a criminatory obituary of Sir Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald, who sank into his grave on September 24, 1810. "The history of his life and loyalty," Cox observes, "is written in legible characters on the backs of his countrymen." The lives of the late baronets of this family ended painfully. Sir John Judkin Fitzgerald, son of the terrorist, was drowned in the Nimrod on its passage from Bristol to Cork. His son, Sir Thomas Judkin Fitzgerald, reduced to pecuniary straits, opened a blacking manufactory and committed suicide in 1864. And his son, a fine boy, hanged himself accidentally while playing with a swing in the garden at Golden Mills.

53. Hasty shrouded burial of Denis Downey at Dunmurry burial ground

    Dunmurry · parish · Kildare · 1798

    Fearing soldiers would burn any house sheltering a rebel corpse, Downey's widow had him hastily buried, wrapped only in a shroud without a coffin, in the family burial-place of Dunmurry near the Red Hills of Kildare.

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    recognised that of her husband. This latter she deposited in the car, covering the corpse with straw and a quilt. Thus placing it beside her, the forlorn widow escaped without molestation to the house of a relative of her husband, living near the old burial-place, named Dunmurry, near the Ked HiUs of Kildare. Preparations were made for the interment. That very night, however, a rumour went abroad, that the military were searching every house throughout the district. Wherever a rebel corpse was found, it was reported that the house containing it would be consigned to the flames. Hastily acting on such information, a grave was dug in an adjoining family burial-place of Dunmurry, whilst the body of Denis Downey was wrapped in a shroud and covered with sheets, for time would not allow of a coffin being made. In this manner the remains were consigned to their last resting-place, and covered with earth. The poor woman soon returned to find her former comfortable home a perfect wreck. For nights in succession, with a servant maid, she was obliged to rise from bed and allow the ruffian soldiery to despoil her of almost every remnant of property. Desponding and broken-hearted in her unprotected situation, and happily wishing a retirement from the scenes of former happiness, the farm was aiterwards sold to a purchaser, and the desolate widow, with her small infant charge, removed to the neighbouring town of Monasterevan. Earely could she be induced, in after years, to recur to this earlier period of her life, without tears moistening her eyes and stealing down her cheeks ; nor could she ever regard a soldier without feelings of deep aversion. The foregoing narrative furnishes a dark illustration of baneful events, connected with the Irish EebeUion of 1798. ' It is no isolated episode,' adds Mr O'Hanlon ; ' for manj other family afflictions, equally deplorable and tragic in results, must have chequered the lot in life of thousands who became victims during this sad period of civil commotion and disorder.' "

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 109

    As the companion tells it

    As the road passes through the parish of Dunmurry in Kildare, you are near ground where a hurried burial took place in 1798. Denis Downey had been killed, and his widow placed his body in a car, covering it with straw and a quilt. She escaped without molestation to the house of a relative of her husband, living near the old burial-place of Dunmurry, near the Red Hills of Kildare. Preparations were made for the interment. That very night, a rumour went abroad that the military were searching every house throughout the district. Wherever a rebel corpse was found, it was reported that the house containing it would be consigned to the flames. Hastily acting on this, a grave was dug in an adjoining family burial-place of Dunmurry. The body of Denis Downey was wrapped in a shroud and covered with sheets, for time would not allow of a coffin being made. In this manner the remains were consigned to their last resting-place and covered with earth. The poor woman soon returned to find her former comfortable home a perfect wreck. For nights in succession, with a servant maid, she was obliged to rise from bed and allow the ruffian soldiery to despoil her of almost every remnant of property. Desponding and broken-hearted, the farm was afterwards sold, and the desolate widow, with her small infant charge, removed to the neighbouring town of Monasterevan. Rarely could she be induced, in after years, to recur to this period of her life without tears moistening her eyes and stealing down her cheeks. Nor could she ever regard a soldier without feelings of deep aversion.

54. Higgins's fraudulent marriage lodgings at Lucan

    near Lucan · town · Dublin · 1766

    After marrying Mary Anne Archer through fraud, Higgins brought his bride to lodgings at Lucan, where she soon discovered his true character and fled back toward Dublin in maniac wildness.

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    do not tell, ami \vc give it on the authority ot the late venerable divine, Dr Yore, who was specially connected with the locality: As soon as the marriage between Higgins and Miss Archer had been solemnised, he brought her to some lodgings at Lucan. The bride, after a short matrimonial experience, found that Higgins was by no means a desirable husband ; and having watched her opportunity to escape, fled, with almost maniac wildness, to Dublin. Higgins gave chase, and came in sight just as the poor gir/ had reached her father's house. It was the dawn ot morning, and her parents had not yet risen ; but she screamed [)iteously at the street door, and Mrs Archer, in her night-dress, got up and opened it. The affrighted girl had no sooner rushed through the Ihreshold than Higgins came violently up, and endeavoured to push the door open. Mrs Archer re sisted. She placed lier arms across the ample iron sockets which had been formed for the reception of a wooden bolt. Higgins applied his strength. Mrs Archer cried wildly for relief and mercy ; but her son-in-law disregarded the appeal, and continued to force the door with such violence that Mrs Archer's arm was crushed in two.

    On the informations being sworn, Higgins was committed to prison. We read that on January 9, 1767, the citizens of Dublin witnessed his procession from Newgate, in Cutpurse Row, to the Tholsel, or Sessions' House, at Chiist Church Place, then known afi Skinner's Eow.*

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152

    As the companion tells it

    Lucan is the town where, in 1766, a fraud caught up with a young bride. Higgins had married Mary Anne Archer by deception, and once the ceremony was done he brought her to lodgings here. She did not take long to see what kind of man he was. She waited for her chance and fled, in almost maniac wildness, back toward Dublin. Higgins chased her and came in sight just as she reached her father's house. It was dawn, her parents still in bed. She screamed at the street door, and her mother, Mrs Archer, came down in her night-dress and opened it. The girl rushed through, and Higgins came violently up, trying to force the door open. Mrs Archer braced herself against it, placing her arms across the iron sockets meant for a wooden bolt. Higgins pushed with all his strength. Mrs Archer cried out for mercy, but he kept forcing the door until her arm was crushed in two. On the informations being sworn, Higgins was committed to prison. On January 9, 1767, the citizens of Dublin saw him led in procession from Newgate, in Cutpurse Row, to the Tholsel, the Sessions' House, at Christ Church Place, then known as Skinner's Row.

55. Judge Robinson's gallows ordeal at Armagh assizes

    near Armagh · town · Armagh · 1763

    When proceeding to the Armagh assizes in 1763, the unpopular Judge Robinson found a gallows erected across the road, deliberately constructed so that he was forced to pass beneath it, a hostile gesture by the Heart-of-Oak-Boys.

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    Judge Kobinson was a bad lawyer and an unpopular judge. When proceeding to the Armagh assizes, in 1763, he found a gallows erected, and so constructed across the road that it was necessary to pass under it. To the " Heart-of -Oak-Boys" Judge Robinson was indebted for this compliment. J He was called to the bar in 1737, and died in Dominic Street in 1786. Mr O'Regan, in his " Memoir of Curran," describes Robinson as small and peevish. A member of the bar, named Hoare, sternly resisted the moroseness of the judge; at last, Robinson charged him with a design to bring the king's com-

    • Tiadition communicated by Mr Gill, publisher, Diiblin.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Armagh, there is a story from 1763. Judge Robinson was a bad lawyer and an unpopular judge. When he was proceeding to the Armagh assizes that year, he found a gallows erected across the road, constructed so that it was necessary to pass under it. The Heart-of-Oak-Boys were responsible. He had been called to the bar in 1737 and died in Dominic Street in 1786. Mr O'Regan, in his Memoir of Curran, describes Robinson as small and peevish. A member of the bar named Hoare sternly resisted the moroseness of the judge. At last Robinson charged him with a design to bring the king's commission into contempt.

56. Magee returns triumphant to his house in College Green

    near College Green · street · Dublin · 1789

    After being bailed for £4000, Magee was released from prison and walked to his own house in College Green, greeted by loud congratulations from the Dublin crowd.

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    Magee's letters made frequent reference to the sufferings to which the Government had subjected him. Thus, in No. 1789, he tells us, " I have been four times fiated, and dragged through the streets like a felon — three times into dungeons ! " But having, on October 29, received a notification from Government declaratory of its willingness to accept the sum of £4000 as bail " to keep the peace for five years towards Lord Olonmel," Magee bade adieu to prison, and, accompanied by Hamilton Rowan, attended the court and gave the required surety. " Mr Magee, on being discharged, walked to his own house in College Green, greeted by the loud congratulations of the people." f

    Poor Magee's spell of liberty seems to have been of lamentably short duration, if the evidence of his own organ can be accepted as conclusive. The sweets of liberty were once more exchanged for the bitters of "durance vile." In the Dublin Evening Post of November 12, 1789, we read — " Magee was brought up from the Lock-up House, where he had been confined since Tuesday last upon fiats granted by Lord Olonmel, at the suit of Messrs Higgins, Daly, Bren-

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 29

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about College Green, Magee's own house stood, the place he walked to after his release. He had been, in his own words, four times fiated, and dragged through the streets like a felon, three times into dungeons. On October 29, 1789, the Government declared it would accept the sum of £4000 as bail to keep the peace for five years towards Lord Olonmel. Magee bade adieu to prison, and accompanied by Hamilton Rowan, attended the court and gave the required surety. On being discharged, he walked to his own house in College Green, greeted by the loud congratulations of the people. But his spell of liberty was lamentably short. The sweets of liberty were once more exchanged for the bitters of what he called durance vile. The Dublin Evening Post of November 12, 1789, reports that Magee was brought up from the Lock-up House, where he had been confined since Tuesday, upon fiats granted by Lord Olonmel, at the suit of Messrs Higgins, Daly, Brennan.

57. Search of Moore's house in Thomas Street ordered

    Thomas Street · street · Dublin · 1798

    Secretary Cooke ordered the house of James Moore at 119 Thomas Street to be searched for pikes and traitors, based on secret information. A carpenter overheard the order and warned Moore in time for him to flee and secure Lord Edward's safety.

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    From the representative of the IVioore family, who gave Lord Edward ample shelter and protection when a thousand pounds lay on his head, we have gathered the following valuable traditional details ; and, as will be found, they are interwoven with the history of the Sham Squire. A carpenter named Tuite was at work in one of the apartments of Mr Secretary Cooke's office on May 16, 1798. While repairing the floor within the recess of a double door, he distinctly heard Mr Cooke say, that the house of James Moore, 119 Thomas Street, should be forthwith searclied for pikes and traitors. Tuite, who was under some obligations to Moore, with great presence of mind, noiselessly wrenched off the hinge of the outer door, and asked permission to leave the Castle for ten minutes, in order to purchase a new hinge in Kennedy's Lane. Leave was given ; but, instead of going to the ironmonger's, Tuite ran with immense speed to James Moore in Thomas Street, gave the hint, and returned to his work. Moore, who was deeply implicated, and had a commissariat for five hundred men on the premises, fled to the banks of the Boyne, near Drogheda, after previously telling his daughter to provide for the safety of Lord Edward, who was at that moment upstairs. Miss Moore had a high respect and friendship

    * Now tho Mendicity Institution.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 36

    As the companion tells it

    This is Thomas Street in Dublin, where James Moore lived at number 119. On May 16, 1798, a carpenter named Tuite was repairing a floor in the office of Secretary Cooke at the Castle. He heard Cooke order that Moore's house be searched forthwith for pikes and traitors. Tuite was under obligations to Moore. With great presence of mind, he noiselessly wrenched off the hinge of the outer door and asked permission to leave the Castle for ten minutes to buy a new hinge in Kennedy's Lane. Leave was given. Instead of going to the ironmonger's, Tuite ran with immense speed to Moore in Thomas Street, gave the hint, and returned to his work. Moore was deeply implicated, and had a commissariat for 500 men on the premises. He fled to the banks of the Boyne near Drogheda, after first telling his daughter to provide for the safety of Lord Edward, who was upstairs at that moment. The Moore family had given Lord Edward shelter and protection when a thousand pounds lay on his head.

58. Tailors' riot and murder of Michael Hanlon in Cope Street

    Cope Street · street · Dublin · 1792

    In January 1792, armed journeymen tailors rioted for several days around Ross Lane, Merchant's Quay, Castle Street and Cope Street, attacking fellow tailors; Michael Hanlon was killed on the spot in Cope Street and others had their hands cut off or were reportedly murdered and thrown in the river.

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    "On the several mornings of the 17th, 18th, 19th, and' 20th inst., a number of armed persons, journeymen tailors, assembled in a riotous manner about the house of Mr Miilea, Ross Lane; Mr Leet, Merchant's Quay ; Mr Walsh, Castle Street; Mr Ward, Cope Street; and the houses of several other master tailors, and cut, maimed, and abused several journeymen tailors who were peaceably going to their respective places of employment; one of said men, named Michael Hanlon, was killed on the spot, in Cope Street; two have had their hands cut off; several others have been cut and bruised in such a manner as to be now lying dangerously ill ; and some journeymen are missing, who, it is reported, have been murdered and thrown into the river."

    * Sedan-bearers, familiarly gtyled "Cliristiau Ponies. '' There il a well-known story in Ireland of a Connaughtman, who, when en luring a sedan chair, found that the bottom had, by some accident, fallen out of it, but, neyertheless, he made no demur, and walked to his destination in the chair. On getting out he remarked to the men who assumed to convey him, " Only for the honour of tii« thing I might as well have walked."

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 28

    As the companion tells it

    In January 1792, Cope Street in Dublin was where a tailors' riot turned deadly. On the mornings of the 17th, 18th, 19th, and 20th, armed journeymen tailors assembled in a riotous manner about the houses of several master tailors, including Mr Miilea in Ross Lane, Mr Leet at Merchant's Quay, Mr Walsh on Castle Street, and Mr Ward. They cut, maimed, and abused journeymen tailors who were peaceably going to their places of employment. One of those men, Michael Hanlon, was killed on the spot. Two had their hands cut off. Several others were cut and bruised so badly they lay dangerously ill. Some journeymen went missing, and it was reported they had been murdered and thrown into the river.

59. Tradition of Emmet's body in Bully's Acre before removal

    near Bully's Acre · graveyard cemetery burial ground · Dublin · 1803

    John Patten recalled a tradition that Robert Emmet had first been buried in Bully's Acre, also known as the Hospital Fields, and that his remains were later removed from there to St Michan's churchyard.

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    We had the pleasure, soon after, of a conversation with John Patten when in his eighty-seventh year. This gentleman was the brother-in-law of Thomas Addis Emmet. He told us that having been a state prisoner in 1803, he was not present at Emmet's funeral. He had no authentic information on the subject, but, according to his impression, Robert Emmet had been buried in Bully's Acre — also known as the Hospital Fields ; and that the remains were from thence removed to Michan's churchyard, where the ashes of Bond and the Sheareses rest. He added that Doctor Gamble of St Michan's, the clergyman who attended Emmet in his last moments, was a not unlikely person to have got the remains removed from Bully's Acre to St Michan's.

    A literary friend of ours, Mr Hercules Ellis, was speaking of Emmet and the uninscribed tomb at a dinner party, when a gentleman present corrected the error under which he conceived Mr Ellis laboured respecting the place of his burial.

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 100

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about Bully's Acre, there's a tradition connected to Robert Emmet. After his execution in 1803, John Patten, brother-in-law of Thomas Addis Emmet, said he had no authentic information on the burial, but his impression was that Emmet had first been buried here in Bully's Acre, also known as the Hospital Fields. Patten was a state prisoner that year and couldn't attend the funeral himself. He believed the remains were later removed to St Michan's churchyard, where the ashes of Bond and the Sheareses rest. He thought Doctor Gamble of St Michan's, the clergyman who attended Emmet in his last moments, was the likely person to have arranged the transfer. It's a tradition, not a confirmed fact, passed on from a man in his eighty-seventh year who readily admitted he had no certain knowledge of what happened.

60. Union Lodge Meeting Raided; Byrne's Premises Burned

    Dundalk · town · Louth · 1798

    A United Irishmen meeting at Union Lodge, Teeling's residence near Dundalk, was betrayed by a spy overhearing officers at a hotel; soldiers raided the site and burned Byrne's extensive premises at Salttown and Castletown to the ground.

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    to deliver the message, and did so. But the -warning was there already. The Kev. James Eastwood, of Castletown, — uncle to the late James Eastwood, for the attempted murder of whom the two men were hung in Dundalk in 1852 — hearing from headquarters of the intended expedition, sent a man named Haughey, in aU haste, with a note to put into Mr. Byrne's own hand. When Haughey arrived at the Lodge, there were ten of the gentlemen outside — Byrne, Markey, Teeling and Turner, the other six were strangers. When Byrne read the note, he turned round, and said : — ' Gentlemen, it's all up — there are informers among us — the red-coats will be here in five minutes ! ' ' We'll fight to the last,' replied Teeling and Turner in one voice. So sudden was the invasion of the soldiery that Teeling and Turner had only time to conceal themselves at the bottom of the garden. The others escaped in different directions. As soon as the soldiers entered the Lodge, the officer in command exclaimed — ' Ah, here's the nest, but the birds have flown 1' The extensive premises of Mr. Byrne were then set fire to, both in Salttown and Castletown, and totally destroyed. It is said that these premises were largely insured, and they having been burnt by direction of Jonathan Seaver, who held a captaincy in the Louth Yeomanry, that gentleman's estates were put under a mortgage. Of the many individuals who were thus unceremoniously routed, few of them ever met again. Byrne, who had a friend in the Austrian service, named Colonel Begg, also obtained a commission in it, and fought at the battle of Marengo, where he got a gun-shot wound in the hip, which lamed him for Ufe. Turner went to the Isle of Man, and having quarrelled there with a gentleman named Boyce, uncle in marriage to the late Mr. Eastwood, of Castletown, agreed that the dispute should be settled by an appeal to arms. The two beUigerents, with their friends, repaired to the spot of honour, and as Turner was preparing for the struggle, his adversary shot him through the head ; and thus terminated the career of a man, whose only regret was, that his life was not lost in the service of his country. Poor Teeling's fate is too well-known. He was hanged, his rankest offence seemingly being that he would not lament the death of an enemy to Ireland. On

    Internet Archive cu31924028122152, Chapter 125

    As the companion tells it

    In 1798, Dundalk was the setting for a raid that scattered a group of United Irishmen and ended several lives in its aftermath. A meeting had been called at Union Lodge, the residence of a man named Teeling, near the town. A spy had overheard officers talking at a hotel, and word reached the Reverend James Eastwood of Castletown. Eastwood sent a man named Haughey in all haste with a note for Mr Byrne's own hand. When Haughey arrived at the Lodge, ten gentlemen stood outside: Byrne, Markey, Teeling, Turner, and six strangers. Byrne read the note, turned round, and said: "Gentlemen, it's all up — there are informers among us — the red-coats will be here in five minutes." Teeling and Turner replied in one voice: "We'll fight to the last." The soldiery came so suddenly that Teeling and Turner had only time to hide at the bottom of the garden. The others escaped in different directions. The officer in command exclaimed: "Ah, here's the nest, but the birds have flown." Byrne's extensive premises were then set fire to, both in Salttown and Castletown, and totally destroyed. They were said to be largely insured, and because they were burnt by direction of Jonathan Seaver, a captain in the Louth Yeomanry, his estates were put under a mortgage. Of the men routed that day, few ever met again. Byrne had a friend in the Austrian service, Colonel Begg, and obtained a commission. He fought at the battle of Marengo, took a gunshot wound in the hip, and was lamed for life. Turner went to the Isle of Man, quarrelled with a gentleman named Boyce, and agreed to settle it by arms. As Turner prepared for the struggle, Boyce shot him through the head. Teeling was hanged, his rankest offence seemingly being that he would not lament the death of an enemy to Ireland.