The Wearing of the Green, or The Prosecuted Funeral Procession

Each story keeps the passage it was read from. Open one to read the passage as the book has it, and, where the companion has written its own telling, that too.

1. Procession honours Lord Edward Fitzgerald outside 151 Thomas Street

   Thomas Street · street · Dublin · 1798

   As the procession passed the house at 151 Thomas Street, every head was uncovered in honour of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was arrested and mortally wounded there by Major Sirr and his assistants in the front bedroom of the second floor.

   Read the passage

   About one o'clock the head of the procession, which had been compressed into a dense mass in Stevens'-lane, burst like confined water when relieved of restraint, on entering James's-street, where every window and doorstep was crowded. Along the lines of footway extending at either side from the old fountain up to James's-gate, were literally tented over with umbrellas of every hue and shade, held up as protection against the cold rain that fell in drizzling showers and made the streetway on which the vast numbers stood ankle deep in the slushy mud. The music of the "Dead March in Saul," heard in the distance, caused the people to break from the lines in which they had partially stood awaiting the arrival of the procession, which now, for the first time, began to assume its full proportions. As it moved along the quays at the north side of the river, every street, bridge, and laneway served to obstruct to a considerable extent its progress and its order, owing to interruption from carriage traffic and from the crowds that poured into it and swelled it in its onward course. In the vast multitudes that lined this great western artery of the city, the greatest order and propriety were observed, and all seemed to be impressed with the one solemn and all-pervading idea that they were assembled to express their deep sympathy with the fate of three men whom they believed had been condemned and had suffered death unjustly. Even amongst the young there was not to be recognised the slightest approach to levity, and the old characteristics of a great Irish gathering were not to be perceived anywhere. The wrong, whether real or imaginary, done to Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin, made their memory sacred with the thousands that stood for hours in the December wet and cold of yesterday, to testify by their presence their feelings and their sympathies. The horsemen wearing green rosettes, trimmed with crape, who rode in advance of the procession, kept back the crowds at either side that encroached on the space in the centre of the street required for the vast coming mass to move through. On it came, the advance with measured tread, to the music of the band in front, and notwithstanding the mire which had to be waded through, the line went on at quiet pace, and with admirable order, but there was no effort at anything like semi-military swagger or pompous demonstration. Every window along the route of the procession was fully occupied by male and female spectators, all wearing green ribbons and crape, and in front of several of the houses black drapery was suspended. The tide of men, women, and children continued to roll on in the drenching rain, but nearly all the fair processionists carried umbrellas. It was not till the head of the vast moving throng had reached James's-gate that anything like a just conception could be formed of its magnitude, as it was only now that it was beginning to get into regular shape and find room to extend itself. The persons whose duty it was to keep the several parts of the procession well together had no easy part to play, as the line had to be repeatedly broken to permit the ordinary carriage traffic of the streets to go on with as little delay as possible. The _cortege_ at this point looked grand and solemn in the extreme because of its vastness, and also because of all present appearing to be impressed with the one idea. The gloomy, wet, and cheerless weather was quite in keeping with the funeral march of 35,000 people. The bands were placed at such proper distances that the playing of one did not interfere with the other. After passing James's-gate the band in front ceased to perform, and on passing the house 151 Thomas-street every head was uncovered in honour of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was arrested and mortally wounded by Major Sirr and his assistants in the front bedroom of the second floor of that house. Such was the length of the procession, that an hour had elapsed from the time its head entered James's-street before the first hearse turned the corner of Stevens'-lane. In the neighbourhood of St. Catherine's church a vast crowd of spectators had settled down, and every available elevation was taken possession of. At this point a large portion of the streetway was broken up for the purpose of laying down water-pipes, and on the lifting-crane and the heaps of earth the people wedged and packed themselves, which showed at once that this was a great centre of attraction--and it was, for here was executed the young and enthusiastic Robert Emmet sixty-four years ago. When Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin were condemned to death as political offenders, some of the highest and the noblest in the land warned the government to pause before the extreme penalty pronounced on the condemned men would be carried into effect, but all remonstrance was in vain, and on last Saturday fortnight, three comparatively unknown men in their death passed into the ranks of heroes and martyrs, because it was believed, and believed generally, that their lives were sacrificed to expediency, and not to satisfy justice. The spot where Robert Emmet closed his young life on a bloody scaffold was yesterday regarded by thousands upon thousands of his countrymen and women as a holy place, and all looked upon his fate as similar to that of the three men whose memory they had assembled to honour, and whose death they pronounced to be unjust. It would be hard to give a just conception of the scene here, as the procession advanced and divided, as it were, into two great channels, owing to the breaking up of the streetway. On the advance of the _cortege_ reaching the top of Bridgefoot-street every head was uncovered, and nothing was to be heard but the measured tread of the vast mass, but as if by some secret and uncontrollable impulse a mighty, ringing, and enthusiastic cheer, broke from the moving throng as the angle of the footway at the eastern end of St. Catherine's church, where the scaffold on which Emmet was executed stood, was passed. In that cheer there appeared to be no fiction, as it evidently came straight from the hearts of thousands, who waved their hats and handkerchiefs, as did also the groups that clustered in the windows of the houses in the neighbourhood. As the procession moved on from every part of it the cheers rose again and again, men holding up their children, and pointing out the place where one who loved Ireland, "not wisely but too well," rendered up his life. When the hearse with white plumes came up bearing on the side draperies the words "William P. Allen," all the enthusiasm and excitement ceased, and along the lines of spectators prayers for the repose of the soul of the departed man passed from mouth to mouth; and a sense of deep sadness seemed to settle down on the swaying multitude as the procession rolled along on its way. After this hearse came large numbers of females walking on bravely, apparently heedless of the muddy streets and the unceasing rain that came down without a moment's intermission. When the second hearse, bearing white plumes and the name of "Michael O'Brien" on the side pendants, came up, again all heads were uncovered, and prayers recited by the people for the everlasting rest of the departed. Still onward rolled the mighty mass, young and old, and in the entire assemblage was not to be observed a single person under the influence of drink, or requiring the slightest interference on the part of the police, whose exertions were altogether confined to keeping the general thoroughfare clear of obstruction. Indeed, justly speaking, the people required no supervision, as they seemed to feel that they had a solemn duty to discharge. Fathers were to be seen bearing in their arms children dressed in white and decorated with green ribbons, and here, as elsewhere, was observed unmistakable evidence of the deep sympathy of the people with the executed men. This was, perhaps, more strikingly illustrated as the third hearse, with sable plumes, came up bearing at either side the name of "Michael Larkin;" prayers for his soul's welfare were mingled with expressions of commiseration for his widow and children. At the entrance to Cornmarket, where the streetway narrows, the crushing became very great, but still the procession kept its onward course. On passing the shop of Hayburne, who, it will be remembered, was convicted of being connected with the Fenian conspiracy, a large number of persons in the procession uncovered and cheered. In the house of Roantree, in High-street, who was also convicted of treason-felony, a harp was displayed in one of the drawingroom windows by a lady dressed in deep mourning, and the procession loudly cheered as it passed on its route.

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 2

   As the companion tells it

   Along this street in December, a funeral procession passed in the rain, 35,000 people marching to honour three men, Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin, condemned and executed as political offenders. The crowd believed their lives were sacrificed to expediency and not to justice. The Dead March in Saul was played by bands placed at proper distances along the route. The day was wet and cheerless, the streetway ankle deep in slushy mud, and nearly everyone carried umbrellas. Every window was full of spectators wearing green ribbons and crape, and black drapery hung in front of several houses. The procession had been compressed in Stevens' Lane and burst out on entering James's Street, where it began to find room to extend itself. So vast was its length that an hour elapsed from the time its head entered James's Street before the first hearse turned the corner of Stevens' Lane. On passing the house at 151 Thomas Street, every head was uncovered in honour of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was arrested and mortally wounded there by Major Sirr and his assistants in the front bedroom of the second floor. The procession kept moving, quiet and orderly, the marchers wading through the mire at a steady pace with no show of military swagger or pompous demonstration.

2. Public Execution and Popular Mourning of Bishop O'Devany in Dublin

   Dublin · city · Dublin

   Bishop O'Devany and a priest were condemned of treason at the King's Bench and executed in Dublin, with huge crowds following the cart to the gallows, weeping and later collecting relics from his body, head, and the gallows itself. The scene was recorded by a crown official as evidence of seditious sympathy for the executed.

   Read the passage

   Well, they put his feet into tin boots filled with oil, and then placed him standing in the fire. Eventually they cut off his head, tore out his bowels, and cut the limbs from his body. Gentlemen, 'twas all "according to law;" and to demonstrate sympathy for him and "disesteem" of that law was "sedition." But do you wonder greatly that law of that complexion failed to secure popular sympathy and respect? One more illustration, gentlemen, taken from a period somewhat later on. It is the execution--"according to law," gentlemen; entirely "according to law"--of another Popish bishop named O'Devany. The account is that of a crown official of the time--some most worthy predecessor of the solicitor-general. I read it from the recently published work of the Rev. C.P. Meehaun. "On the 28th of January, the bishop and priest, being arraigned at the King's Bench, were each condemned of treason, and adjudged to be executed the Saturday following; which day being come, a priest, or two of the Pope's brood, with holy water and other holy stuffs"--(no sneer was that at all, gentlemen; no sneer at Catholic practices, for a crown official never sneers at Catholic practices)--"were sent to sanctify the gallows whereon they were to die. About two o'clock, p.m., the traitors were delivered to the sheriffs of Dublin, who placed them in a small car, which was followed by a great multitude. As the car progressed the spectators knelt down; but the bishop sitting still, like a block, would not vouchsafe them a word, or turn his head aside. The multitude, however, following the car, made such a dole and lamentation after him, as the heavens themselves resounded the echoes of their outcries." (Actually a seditious funeral procession--made up of the ancestors of those thirty-thousand men, women, and children, who, according to the solicitor-general, glorified the cause of murder on the 8th of last December.) "Being come to the gallows, whither they were followed by troops of the citizens, men and women of all classes, most of the best being present, the latter kept up such a shrieking, such a howling, and such a hallooing, as if St. Patrick himself had been gone to the gallows, could not have made greater signs of grief; but when they saw him turned from off the gallows, they raised the _whobub_ with such a maine cry, as if the rebels had come to rifle the city. Being ready to mount the ladder, when he was pressed by some of the bystanders to speak, he repeated frequently _Sine me quæso_. The executioner had no sooner taken off the bishop's head, but the townsmen of Dublin began to flock about him, some taking up the head with pitying aspect, accompanied with sobs and sighs; some kissed it with as religious an appetite as ever they kissed the Pax; some cut away all the hair from the head, which they preserved for a relic; some others were practisers to steal the head away, but the executioner gave notice to the sheriffs. Now, when he began to quarter the body, the women thronged about him, and happy was she that could get but her handkerchief dipped in the blood of the traitor; and the body being once dissevered in four quarters, they neither left, finger nor toe, but they cut them off and carried them away; and some others that could get no holy monuments that appertained to his person, with their knives they shaved off chips from the hallowed gallows; neither could they omit the halter wherewith he was hanged, but it was rescued for holy uses. The same night after the execution, a great crowd flocked about the gallows, and there spent the fore part of the night in heathenish howling, and performing many Popish ceremonies; and after midnight, being then Candlemas day, in the morning having their priests present in readiness, they had Mass after Mass till, daylight being come, they departed to their own houses." There was "sympathy with sedition" for you, gentlemen. No wonder the crown official who tells the story--same worthy predecessor of Mr. Harrison--should be horrified at such a demonstration. I will sadden you with no further illustrations of English law, but I think it will be admitted that after centuries of such law, one need not wonder if the people hold it in "hatred and contempt." With the opening of the seventeenth century, however, came a golden and glorious opportunity for ending that melancholy--that terrible state of things. In the reign of James I., English law, for the first time, extended to every corner of this kingdom. The Irish came into the new order of things frankly and in good faith; and if wise counsels prevailed then amongst our rulers, oh, what a blessed ending there might have been to the bloody feud of centuries. The Irish submitted to the Gaelic King, to whom had come in the English crown. In their eyes he was of a friendly, nay of a kindred race. He was of a line of Gaelic kings that had often befriended Ireland. Submitting to him was not yielding to the brutal Tudor. Yes, that was the hour, the blessed opportunity for laying the foundation of a real union between the three kingdoms; a union of equal national rights under the one crown. This was what the Irish expected; and in this sense they in that hour accepted the new dynasty. And it is remarkable that from that day to this, though England has seen bloody revolutions and violent changes of rulers, Ireland has ever held faithfully--too faithfully--to the sovereignty thus adopted. But how were they received? How were their expectations met? By persecution, proscription, and wholesale plunder, even by that miserable Stuart. His son came to the throne. Disaffection broke out in England and Scotland. Scottish Protestant Fenians, called "Covenanters," took the field against him, because of the attempt to establish Episcopalian Protestantism as a state church. By armed rebellion against their lawful king, I regret to say it, they won rights which now most largely tend to make Scotland contented and loyal. I say it is to be regretted that those rights were thus won; for I say that even at best it is a good largely mixed with evil where rights are won by resorts of violence or revolution. His concessions to the Calvanist Fenians in Scotland did not save Charles. The English Fenians, under their Head Centre Cromwell, drove him from the throne and murdered him on a scaffold in London. How did the Irish meanwhile act? They stood true to their allegiance. They took the field for the King. What was the result? They were given over to slaughter and plunder by the brutal soldiery of the English Fenians. Their nobles and gentry were beggared and proscribed; their children were sold as white slaves to West Indian planters; and their gallant struggles for the king, their sympathy for the royalist cause, was actually denounced by the English Fenians as "sedition," "rebellion," "lawlessness," "sympathy with crime." Ah, gentlemen, the evils thus planted in our midst will survive, and work their influence; yet some men wonder that English law is held in "disesteem" in Ireland. Time went on, gentlemen; time went on. Another James sat on the throne; and again English Protestant Fenianism conspired for the overthrow of their sovereign. They invited "foreign emissaries" to come over from Holland and Sweden, to begin the revolution for them. They drove their legitimate king from the throne--never more to return. How did the Irish act in that hour? Alas! Ever too loyal--ever only too ready to stand by the throne and laws if only treated with justice or kindliness--they took the field for the king, not against him. He landed on our shores; and had the English Fenians rested content with rebelling themselves, and allowed us to remain loyal as we desired to be, we might now be a neighbouring but friendly and independent kingdom under the ancient Stuart line. King James came here and opened his Irish parliament in person. Oh, who will say in that brief hour at least the Irish nation was not reconciled to the throne and laws? King, parliament, and people, were blended in one element of enthusiasm, joy, and hope, the first time for ages Ireland had known such a joy. Yes--

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

   As the companion tells it

   As you pass through Dublin, you are moving through the city where Bishop O'Devany was put to death in a spectacle the crown itself recorded. On January 28, he and a priest were arraigned at the King's Bench, condemned of treason, and sentenced to die the following Saturday. A crown official of the time wrote the account. Priests came first to sanctify the gallows with holy water. Around two in the afternoon the sheriffs placed the condemned in a small cart, and a great multitude followed. As the cart moved, spectators knelt. The bishop sat still, turning his head neither way, saying nothing. The crowd behind the cart made such lamentation, the crown official wrote, that the heavens resounded the echoes of their outcries. Citizens of all classes followed to the gallows, men and women, the best among them present. When they saw him turned from the gallows they raised such a cry as if rebels had come to rifle the city. Ready to mount the ladder, pressed to speak, he repeated the words "Sine me quæso." After the executioner took off his head, the people of Dublin crowded around. Some lifted the head with pity, kissing it. Some cut the hair away to keep as relics. Others tried to steal the head entirely, until the executioner warned the sheriffs. When the quartering began, women pressed in, and happy was she who could dip her handkerchief in his blood. They cut away fingers and toes and carried them off. Those who could get nothing from his person shaved chips from the gallows itself with their knives, and the halter too was rescued for holy uses. That same night a great crowd gathered again at the gallows and spent the first part of the night in howling and ceremonies. After midnight, it was Candlemas morning, and with priests present they said Mass after Mass until daylight came and they went home.

3. Martin's Graveside Address at Glasnevin Cemetery

   near Glasnevin Cemetery · graveyard cemetery burial ground · Dublin · 1867

   John Martin addressed a vast crowd from a window overlooking Glasnevin Cemetery, defending Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin as patriots rather than murderers and condemning their execution as an act of English policy. He urged the crowd to maintain solemn, orderly conduct throughout the demonstration.

   Read the passage

   "Fellow-countrymen--This is a strange kind of funeral procession in which we are engaged to-day. We are here, a vast multitude of men, women, and children in a very inclement season of the year, under rain and through mud. We are here escorting three empty hearses to the consecrated last resting place of those who die in the Lord (cheers). The three bodies that we would tenderly bear to the churchyard, and would bury in consecrated ground with all the solem rites of religion, are not here. They are away in a foreign and hostile land (hear, hear), where they have been thrown into unconsecrated ground, branded by the triumphant hatred of our enemies as the vile remains of murderers (cries of 'no murderers,' and cheers). Those three men whose memories we are here to-day to honour--Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin--they were not murderers (great cheering). [A Voice--Lord have mercy on them.] Mr. Martin--These men were pious men, virtuous men--they were men who feared God and loved their country. They sorrowed for the sorrows of the dear old native land of their love (hear, hear). They wished, if possible, to save her, and for that love and for that wish they were doomed to an ignominious death at the hands of the British hangman (hear, hear). It was as Irish patriots that these men were doomed to death (cheers). And it was as Irish patriots that they met their death (cheers). For these reasons, my countrymen, we here to-day have joined in this solemn procession to honour their memories (cheers). For that reason we say from our hearts, 'May their souls rest in peace' (cries of Amen, and cheers). For that reason, my countrymen, we join in their last prayer, 'God save Ireland' (enthusiastic cheering). The death of these three men was an act of English policy. [Here there was some interruption caused by the fresh arrivals and the pushing forward.] I beg of all within reach of my voice to end this demonstration as we have carried it through to the present time, with admirable patience, in the best spirit, with respect, silence and solemnity, to the end (cheers, and cries of 'we will'). I say the death of these men was a legal murder, and that legal murder was an act of English policy (cheers)--of the policy of that nation which through jealousy and hatred of our nation, destroyed by fraud and force our just government sixty-seven years ago (cheers). They have been sixty-seven sad years of insult and robbery--of impoverishment--of extermination--of suffering beyond what any other subject people but ours have ever endured from the malignity of foreign masters (cheers). Nearly through all these years the Irish people continued to pray for the restoration of their Irish national rule. They offered their forgiveness to England. They offered even their friendship to England if she would only give up her usurped power to tyrannise over us, and leave us to live in peace, and as honourable neighbours. But in vain. England felt herself strong enough to continue to insult and rob us, and she was too greedy and too insolent to cease from robbing and insulting us (cheers). Now it has come to pass as a consequence of that malignant policy pursued for so many long years--it has come to pass that the great body of the Irish people despair of obtaining peaceful restitution of our national rights (cheers). And it has also come to pass that vast numbers of Irishmen, whom the oppression of English rule forbade to live by honest industry in their own country, have in America learned to become soldiers (cheers). And those Irish soldiers seem resolved to make war against England (cheers). And England is in a panic of rage and fear in consequence of this (loud cheers). And being in a panic about Fenianism, she hopes to strike terror into her Irish malcontents by a legal murder (loud cheers). England wanted to show that she was not afraid of Fenianism--[A Voice--'She will be.'] And she has only shown that she is not afraid to do injustice in the face of Heaven and of man. Many a wicked statute she has framed--many a jury she has packed, in order to dispose of her Irish political offenders--but in the case of Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin, she has committed such an outrage on justice and decency as to make even many Englishmen stand aghast. I shall not detain you with entering into details with which you are all well acquainted as to the shameful scenes of the handcuffing of the untried prisoners--as to the shameful scenes of the trial up to the last moment, when the three men--our dearly beloved Irish brethren, were forced to give up their innocent lives as a sacrifice for the cause of Ireland (loud cheers); and, fellow-countrymen, these three humble Irishmen who represented Ireland on that sad occasion demeaned themselves as Christians, as patriots, modestly, courageously, piously, nobly (loud cheers). We need not blush for them. They bore themselves all through with a courage worthy of the greatest heroes that ever obtained glory upon earth. They behaved through all the trying scenes I referred to with Christian patience--with resignation to the will of God--(hear, hear)--with modest, yet proud and firm adherence to principle (cheers). They showed their love to Ireland and their fear of God from the first to the last (cheers). It is vain for me to attempt to detain you with many words upon this matter. I will say this, that all who are here do not approve of the schemes for the relief of Ireland that these men were supposed to have contemplated; but all who love Ireland, all generous, Christian men, and women, and children of Ireland--all the children growing up to be men and women of Ireland (hear, hear)--all those feel an intense sympathy, an intense love for the memories of these three men whom England has murdered in form of law by way of striking terror into her Irish subjects. Fellow-countrymen, it is idle almost for me to persist in addressing weak words of mine to you--for your presence here to-day--your demeanour all through--the solemn conduct of the vast multitude assembled directly under the terrorism of a hostile government--say more than the words of the greatest orator--more than the words of a Meagher could say for you (cheers). You have behaved yourselves all through this day with most admirable spirit as good Irishmen and women--as good boys and girls of holy Ireland ought to be (cheers), and I am sure you will behave so to the end (cries of yes, yes). This demonstration is mainly one of mourning for the fate of these three good Irishmen (cheers), but fellow-countrymen, and women, and boys, and girls, it is also one of protest and indignation against the conduct of our rulers (hear, hear, and cheers) Your attendance here to-day is a sufficient protest. Your orderly behaviour--your good temper all through this wretched weather--your attendance here in such vast numbers for such a purpose--avowedly and in the face of the terrorism of the government, which falls most directly upon the metropolis--that is enough for protest. You in your multitudes, men, women, and children, have to-day made that protest. Your conduct has been admirable for patience, for good nature, for fine spirit, for solemn sense of that great duty you were resolved to do. You will return home with the same good order and inoffensiveness. You will join with me now in repeating the prayer of the three martyrs whom we mourn--'God save Ireland!' And all of you, men, women, and boys and girls that are to be men and women of holy Ireland, will ever keep the sentiment of that prayer in your heart of hearts." Mr. Martin concluded amid enthusiastic cheering.

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 3

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere about Glasnevin Cemetery in 1867, John Martin stood at a window overlooking the graveyard and addressed a vast multitude of men, women, and children gathered in rain and mud. They were escorting three empty hearses. The bodies they wanted to bury were not there. Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin lay in unconsecrated ground in England, branded by their enemies as murderers. Martin told the crowd these men were not murderers. They were pious, virtuous men who feared God and loved their country. They wished to save Ireland, and for that love they were doomed to death at the hands of the British hangman. He said it was as Irish patriots that these men were doomed, and as Irish patriots that they met their death. He called their execution a legal murder, an act of English policy. He said England had destroyed Ireland's just government sixty-seven years before, and those years had been ones of insult, robbery, impoverishment, extermination, and suffering beyond what any other subject people had endured. He said England, in a panic over Fenianism, hoped to strike terror into her Irish subjects by this legal murder. Even many Englishmen stood aghast at the outrage on justice in the case of these three men. Martin told the crowd that not everyone there approved of the schemes these men were supposed to have contemplated, but all who loved Ireland felt intense sympathy for their memories. He praised the crowd's patience and good temper in wretched weather and urged them to return home with the same good order. He asked them to join him in the prayer of the three men they mourned: 'God save Ireland.'

4. Nationwide funeral processions honour the Manchester Martyrs

   Cork · city · Cork · 1867

   On Sunday 1st December 1867, funeral processions attended by thousands were held in Cork, Manchester, Mitchelstown, Middleton, Limerick, and Skibbereen to honour Allen, Larkin and O'Brien, whose bodies had been denied proper burial. The Cork demonstration was regarded as the most imposing in numbers and character.

   Read the passage

   And soon public feeling found yet another vent; a mode of manifesting itself scarcely less edifying than the Requiem Masses; namely, funeral processions. The brutal vengeance of the law consigned the bodies of Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien to dishonoured graves; and forbade the presence of sympathising friend or sorrowing relative who might drop a tear above their mutilated remains. Their countrymen now, however, determined that ample atonement should be made to the memory of the dead for this denial of the decencies of sepulture. On Sunday, 1st December, in Cork. Manchester, Mitchelstown, Middleton, Limerick, and Skibbereen, funeral processions, at which thousands of persons attended, were held; that in Cork being admittedly the most imposing, not only in point of numbers, but in the character of the demonstration and the demeanour of the people.

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 1

   As the companion tells it

   As you pass through Cork, this is where the most imposing of the funeral processions took place on Sunday 1 December 1867. Thousands joined processions here and in Manchester, Mitchelstown, Middleton, Limerick, and Skibbereen to honour Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien, whose bodies had been consigned to dishonoured graves, with no friend or relative allowed to mourn over their remains. The Cork demonstration was regarded as the most imposing, not only in numbers but in the character of the demonstration and the demeanour of the people.

5. Jury deadlock and acquittal cheer in the Dublin courtroom

   Dublin · city · Dublin · 1868

   After lengthy deliberation, the jury in the Dublin trial of Sullivan and Martin declared they could not agree on a verdict, leading Mr. Justice Fitzgerald to discharge them; the courtroom and surrounding city erupted in cheering at the effective acquittal.

   Read the passage

   Like a volley there burst a wild cheer, a shout, that shook the building! Again and again it was renewed; and, being caught up by the crowd outside, sent the tidings of victory with electrical rapidity through the city. Then there was a rush at Mr. Martin and Mr. Sullivan. The former especially was clasped, embraced, and borne about by the surging throng, wild with joy. It was with considerable difficulty any of the traversers could get away, so demonstrative was the multitude in the streets. Throughout the city the event was hailed with rejoicing, and the names of the jurymen, "good and bad" were vowed to perpetual benediction. For once, at least, justice had triumphed; or rather, injustice had been baulked. For once, at least, the people had won the day; and the British Government had received a signal overthrow in its endeavour to proscribe--

   "THE WEARING OF THE GREEN."

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

   As the companion tells it

   As you pass through Dublin, you are near the courtroom where, in 1868, a jury in the trial of Sullivan and Martin declared they could not agree on a verdict. Mr. Justice Fitzgerald discharged them, and the effect was instant. A wild cheer burst through the building, caught up by the crowd outside, and the tidings spread through the city. People rushed at Martin and Sullivan, embracing them, bearing them about in a surging throng so demonstrative that the traversers could hardly get away. The names of the jurymen, "good and bad," were vowed to perpetual benediction. The people felt that for once injustice had been baulked, and the British Government had received a signal overthrow in its endeavour to proscribe what the book calls "the wearing of the green."

6. Martin returns to Green-street courthouse where he stood 20 years earlier

   Green Street · street · Dublin · 1848–1868

   John Martin's arraignment at Green-street courthouse in February 1868 evoked memories of his 1848 trial and transportation on the same spot for the same cause, moving the crowd to sympathetic murmurs.

   Read the passage

   It was a scene to be long remembered, that which was presented in the Green-street court-house on that Thursday morning. The dogged vindictiveness of the crown officials, in persisting with this second prosecution, seemed to have excited intense feeling throughout the city, and long before the proceedings opened the court was crowded in every part with anxious spectators. When Mr. Martin entered, accompanied by his brother-in-law, Dr. Simpson, and Mr. Ross Todd, and took his seat at the travelers' bar, a low murmur of respectful sympathy, amounting to applause, ran through the building. And surely it was a sight to move the heart to see this patriot--this man of pure and stainless life, this man of exalted character, of noble soul, and glorious principles--standing once more in that spot where twenty years before he stood confronting the same foe in the same righteous and holy cause--standing once more at that bar whence, twenty years before, he was led off manacled to a felon's doom for the crime of loving Ireland! Many changes had taken place in the interval, but over the stern integrity of _his_ soul time had wrought no change. He himself seemed to recall at this moment his last "trial" scene on this spot, and, as he cast his gaze around, one could detect on his calm thoughtful face something of sadness, yet of pride, as memory doubtless pictured the spectacle of twenty years ago.

   Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Bracken, and Mr. Lalor, arrived soon after, and immediately the judges appeared on the bench the proceedings began.

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

   As the companion tells it

   Along here is Green-street courthouse, where John Martin stood again one Thursday morning in February 1868, twenty years after he had faced trial on this same spot for the same cause. The court was crowded in every part long before proceedings opened, the crown's persistence in a second prosecution having stirred intense feeling throughout the city. When Martin entered with his brother-in-law Dr. Simpson and Mr. Ross Todd and took his seat at the bar, a low murmur of respectful sympathy ran through the building. It was a sight to move the heart, for here he stood once more where twenty years before he had been led off manacled to a felon's doom, as the source puts it, for the crime of loving Ireland. Many changes had taken place in the interval, but time had wrought no change over the stern integrity of his soul. As he cast his gaze around, one could detect on his calm thoughtful face something of sadness yet of pride, as memory pictured the spectacle of twenty years ago. Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Bracken, and Mr. Lalor arrived soon after, and when the judges appeared on the bench the proceedings began.

7. Sullivan predicts imprisonment in Kilmainham

   Kilmainham · townland · Dublin · 1867–1868

   During his defence speech, A.M. Sullivan tells the jury that a prison cell already awaits him in Kilmainham, referencing an earlier conviction for his political writings. He frames his coming imprisonment as a sacrifice for his country.

   Read the passage

   Mr. Sullivan--I am sorry, my lord, for the interruption; though not sorry the people should endorse my estimate of the police. Well, gentlemen, the van was abandoned by its valiant guard; but there remained inside one brave and faithful fellow, Brett by name. I am now giving you the facts as I in my conscience and soul believe they occurred--and as millions of my countrymen--aye, and thousands of Englishmen, too--solemnly believe them to have occurred, though they differ in one item widely from the crown version. Brett refused to give up the key of the van, which he held; and the attacking party commenced various endeavours to break it open. At length one of them called out to fire a pistol into the lock, and thus burst it open. The unfortunate Brett at that moment was looking through the keyhole, endeavouring to get a view of the inexplicable scene outside, when he received the bullet and fell dead. Gentlemen, that may be the true, or it may be the mistaken version. You may hold to the other, or you may hold to this. But whether I be mistaken therein, or otherwise, I say here, as I would say if I stood now before my Eternal Judge on the Last Day, I solemnly believe the mournful episode to have happened thus--I solemnly believe that the man Brett was shot by accident, and not by design. But even suppose your view differs sincerely from mine, will you, can you, hold that I, thus conscientiously persuaded, sympathise with murder, because I sympathise with men hanged for that which I contend was accident, and not murder? That is exactly the issue in this case. Well, the rescued Fenian leaders got away; and then, when all was over--when the danger was passed--valour tremendous returned to the fleet of foot Manchester police. Oh, but they wreaked their vengeance that night on the houses of the poor Irish in Manchester! By a savage razzia they soon filled the jails with our poor countrymen seized on suspicion. And then broke forth all over England that shout of anger and passion which none of us will ever forget. The national pride had been sorely wounded; the national power had been openly and humiliatingly defied; the national fury was aroused. On all sides resounded the hoarse shout for vengeance, swift and strong. Then was seen a sight the most shameful of its kind that this century has exhibited--a sight at thought of which Englishmen yet will hang their heads for shame, and which the English historian will chronicle with reddened check--those poor and humble Irish youths led into the Manchester dock in chains! In chains! Yes; iron fetters festering wrist and ankle! Oh, gentlemen, it was a fearful sight; for no one can pretend that in the heart of powerful England there could be danger those poor Irish youths would overcome the authorities and capture Manchester. For what, then, were those chains put on untried prisoners? Gentlemen, it was at this point exactly that Irish sympathy came to the side of those prisoners. It was when we saw them thus used, and saw that, innocent or guilty, they would be immolated--sacrificed to glut the passion of the hour--that our feelings rose high and strong in their behalf. Even in England there were men--noble-hearted Englishmen, for England is never without such men--who saw that if tried in the midst of this national frenzy, those victims would be sacrificed; and accordingly efforts were made for a postponement of the trial. But the roar of passion carried its way. Not even till the ordinary assizes would the trial be postponed. A special commission was sped to do the work while Manchester jurors were in a white heat of panic, indignation, and fury. Then came the trial, which was just what might be expected. Witnesses swore ahead without compunction, and jurors believed them without hesitation. Five men arraigned together as principals--Allen, Larkin, O'Brien, Shore, and Maguire--were found guilty, and the judge concerning in the verdict, were sentenced to death. Five men--not three men, gentlemen--five men in the one verdict, not five separate verdicts. Five men by the same evidence and the same jury in the same verdict. Was that a just verdict? The case of the crown here to-day is that it was--that it is "sedition" to impeach that verdict. A copy of that conviction is handed in here as evidence to convict me of sedition for charging as I do that that was a wrong verdict, a bad verdict, a rotten and a false verdict. But what is the fact? That her Majesty's ministers themselves admit and proclaim that it was a wrong verdict, a false verdict. The very evening those men were sentenced, thirty newspaper reporters sent up to the Home Secretary a petition protesting that--the evidence of the witnesses and the verdict of the jury notwithstanding--there was at least one innocent man thus marked for execution. The government felt that the reporters were right and the jurors wrong. They pardoned Maguire as an innocent man--that same Maguire whose legal conviction is here put in as evidence that he and four others were truly murderers, to sympathise with whom is to commit sedition--nay, "to glorify the cause of murder." Well, after that, our minds were easy. We considered it out of the question any man would be hanged on a verdict thus ruined, blasted, and abandoned; and believing those men innocent of murder, though guilty of another most serious legal crime--rescue with violence, and incidental, though not intentional loss of life--we rejoiced that a terrible mistake was, as we thought, averted. But now arose in redoubled fury the savage cry for blood. In vain good men, noble and humane men, in England tried to save the national honour by breasting this horrible outburst of passion. They were overborne. Petitioners for mercy were mobbed and hooted in the streets. We saw all this--we saw all this; and think you it did not sink into our hearts? Fancy if you can our feelings when we heard that yet another man out of five was respited--ah, he was an American, gentlemen--an American, not an Irishman--but that the three Irishmen, Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien, were to die--were to be put to death on a verdict and on evidence that would not hang a dog in England! We refused to the last to credit it; and thus incredulous, deemed it idle to make any effort to save their lives. But it was true; it was deadly true. And then, gentlemen, the doomed three appeared in a new character. Then they rose into the dignity and heroism of martyrs. The manner in which they bore themselves through the dreadful ordeal ennobled them for ever It was then we all learned to love and revere them as patriots and Christians. Oh, gentlemen, it is only at this point I feel my difficulty in addressing you whose religious faith is not that which is mine. For it is only Catholics who can understand the emotions aroused in Catholic hearts by conduct such as theirs in that dreadful hour. Catholics alone can understand how the last solemn declarations of such men, after receiving the last sacraments of the Church, and about to meet their Great Judge face to face, can outweigh the reckless evidence of Manchester thieves and pickpockets. Yes; in that hour they told us they were innocent, but were ready to die; and we believed them. We believe them still. Aye, do we! They did not go to meet their God with a falsehood on their lips. On that night before their execution, oh, what a scene! What a picture did England present at the foot of the Manchester scaffold! The brutal populace thronged thither in tens of thousands. They danced; they sang; they blasphemed; they chorused "Rule Britannia," and "God save the Queen," by way of taunt and defiance of the men whose death agonies they had come to see! Their shouts and brutal cries disturbed the doomed victims inside the prison as in their cells they prepared in prayer and meditation to meet their Creator and their God. Twice the police had to remove the crowd from around that wing of the prison; so that our poor brothers might in peace go through their last preparations for eternity, undisturbed by the yells of the multitude outside. Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen--that scene! That scene in the grey cold morning when those innocent men were led out to die--to die an ignominious death before that wolfish mob! With blood on fire--with bursting hearts--we read the dreadful story here in Ireland. We knew that these men would never have been thus sacrificed had not their offence been political, and had it not been that in their own way they represented the old struggle of the Irish race. We felt that if time had but been permitted for English passion to cool down, English good feeling and right justice would have prevailed; and they never would have been put to death on such a verdict. All this we felt, yet we were silent till we heard the press that had hounded those men to death falsely declaring that our silence was acquiescence in the deed that consigned them to murderers' graves. Of this I have personal knowledge, that, here in Dublin at least, nothing was done or intended, until the _Evening Mail_ declared that popular feeling which had had ample time to declare itself, if it felt otherwise, quite recognised the justice of the execution. Then we resolved to make answer. Then Ireland made answer. For what monarch, the loftiest in the world, would such demonstrations be made, the voluntary offerings of a people's grief! Think you it was "sympathy for murder" called us forth, or caused the priests of the Catholic Church to drape their churches? It is a libel to utter the base charge. No, no. With the acts of those men at that rescue we had nought to say. Of their innocence of murder we were convinced. Their patriotic feelings, their religious devotion, we saw proved in the noble, the edifying manner of their death. We believed them to have been unjustly sacrificed in a moment of national passion; and we resolved to rescue their memory from the foul stains of their maligners, and make it a proud one for ever with Irishmen. Sympathy with murder, indeed! What I am about to say will be believed; for I think I have shown no fear of consequences in standing by my acts and principles--I say for myself, and for the priests and people of Ireland, who are affected by this case, that sooner would we burn our right hands to cinders than express, directly or indirectly, sympathy with murder; and that our sympathy for Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien is based upon the conviction that they were innocent of any such crime. Gentlemen, having regard to all the circumstances of this sad business, having regard to the feelings under which we acted, think you is it a true charge that we had for our intent and object the bringing of the administration of justice into contempt? Does a man, by protesting, ever so vehemently, against an act of a not infallible tribunal, incur the charge of attempting its overthrow? What evidence can be shown to you that we uttered a word against the general character of the administration of justice in this country, while denouncing this particular proceeding, which we say was a fearful failure of justice--a horrible blunder, a terrible act of passion! None--none. I say, for myself, I sincerely believe that in this country of ours justice is administered by the judges of the Irish Bench with a purity and impartiality between man and man not to be surpassed in the universal world. Let me not be thought to cast reflection on this court, or the learned judges before whom I now stand, if I except in a certain sense, and on some occasions, political trials between the subject and the crown. Apart from this, I fearlessly say the bench of justice in Ireland fully enjoys and is worthy of respect and homage. I care not from what political party its members be drawn, I say that, with hardly an exception, when robed with the ermine, they become dead to the world of politics, and sink the politician in the loftier character of representative of Sacred Justice. Yet, gentlemen, holding those views, I would, nevertheless, protest against and denounce such a trial as that in Manchester, if it had taken place here in Ireland. For, what we contend is that the men in Manchester would never have been found guilty on such evidence, would never have been executed on such a verdict, if time had been given to let panic and passion pass away--time to let English good sense and calm reason and, sense of justice have sway. Now, gentlemen, judge ye me on this whole case; for I have done. I have spoken at great length, but I plead not merely my own cause but the cause of my country. For myself I care little. I stand before you here with the manacles, I might say, on my hands. Already a prison cell awaits me in Kilmainham. My doom, in any event, is sealed. Already a conviction has been obtained against me for my opinions on this same event; for it is not one arrow alone that has been shot from the crown office quiver at me--at my reputation, my property, my liberty. In a few hours more my voice will be silenced; but before the world is shut out from me for a term, I appeal to your verdict--to the verdict of my fellow-citizens--of my fellow-countrymen--to judge my life, my conduct, my acts, my principles and say am I a criminal. Sedition, in a rightly ordered community, is indeed a crime. But who is it that challenges me? Who is it that demands my loyalty? Who is it that calls out to me, "Oh, ingrate son, where is the filial affection, the respect, the obedience, the support, that is my due? Unnatural, seditious, and rebellious child, a dungeon shall punish your crime!" I look in the face of my accuser, who thus holds me to the duty of a son. I turn to see if there I can recognise the features of that mother, whom indeed I love, my own dear Ireland. I look into that accusing face, and there I see a scowl, and not a smile. I miss the soft, fond voice, the tender clasp, the loving word. I look upon the hands reached out to grasp me--to punish me; and lo, great stains, blood red, upon those hands; and my sad heart tells me it is the blood of my widowed mother, Ireland. Then I answer to my accuser--"You have no claim on me--on my love, my duty, my allegiance. You are not my mother. You sit indeed in the place where she should reign. You wear the regal garments torn from her limbs, while she now sits in the dust, uncrowned and overthrown, and bleeding, from many a wound. But my heart is with her still. Her claim alone is recognised by me. She still commands my love, my duty, my allegiance; and whatever the penalty may be, be it prison chains, be it exile or death, to her I will be true" (applause). But, gentlemen of the jury, what is that Irish nation to which my allegiance turns? Do I thereby mean a party, or a class, or creed? Do I mean only those who think and feel as I do on public questions? Oh, no. It is the whole people of this land--the nobles, the peasants, the clergy the merchants, the gentry, the traders, the professions--the Catholic, the Protestant, the Dissenter. Yes. I am loyal to all that a good and patriotic citizen should be loyal to; I am ready, not merely to obey, but to support with heartfelt allegiance, the constitution of my own country--the Queen as Queen of Ireland, and the free parliament of Ireland once more reconstituted in our national senate-house in College--green. And reconstituted once more it will be. In that hour the laws will again be reconciled with national feeling and popular reverence. In that hour there will be no more disesteem, or hatred, or contempt for the laws: for, howsoever a people may dislike and resent laws imposed upon them against their will by a subjugating power, no nation disesteems the laws of its own making. That day, that blessed day, of peace and reconciliation, and joy, and liberty, I hope to see. And when it comes, as come it will, in that hour it will be remembered for me that I stood here to face the trying ordeal, ready to suffer for my country--walking with bared feet over red hot ploughshares like the victims of old. Yes; in that day it will be remembered for me, though a prison awaits me now, that I was one of those journalists of the people who, through constant sacrifice and self-immolation, fought the battle of the people, and won every vestige of liberty remaining in the land. (As Mr. Sullivan resumed his seat, the entire audience burst into applause, again and again renewed, despite all efforts at repression.)

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

8. The Dublin procession of 8th December 1867

   Dublin · city · Dublin · 1867

   John Martin defends the peaceable procession held in Dublin on 8 December 1867, describing it as an unarmed assembly of tens of thousands, including many women and children, that peacefully protested the Manchester executions. He argues it broke none of the legal conditions for an illegal assembly and that police were withdrawn because authorities recognised its peacefulness.

   Read the passage

   My lords and gentlemen of the jury--I am going to trouble this court with some reply to the charge made against me in this indictment. But I am sorry that I must begin by protesting that I do not consider myself as being now put upon my country to be tried as the constitution directs--as the spirit of the constitution requires--and, therefore, I do not address you for my legal defence, but for my vindication before the tribunal of conscience--a far more awful tribunal, to my mind, than this. Gentlemen, I regard you as twelve of my fellow-countrymen, known or believed by my prosecutors to be my political opponents, and selected for that reason for the purpose of obtaining a conviction against me in form of law. Gentlemen, I have not the smallest purpose of casting an imputation against your honesty or the honesty of my prosecutors who have selected you. This is a political trial, and in this country political trials are always conducted in this way. It is considered by the crown prosecutors to be their duty to exclude from the jury-box every juror known, or suspected, to hold or agree with the accused in political sentiment. Now, gentlemen, I have not the least objection to see men of the most opposite political sentiments to mine placed in the jury-box to try me, provided they be placed there as the constitution commands--provided they are twelve of my neighbours indifferently chosen. As a loyal citizen I am willing and desirous to be put upon my county, and fairly tried before any twelve of my countrymen, no matter what may happen to be the political sentiments of any of them. But I am sorry and indignant that this is not such a trial. This system by which over and over again loyal subjects of the Queen in Ireland are condemned in form of law for seeking, by such means as the constitution warrants, to restore her Majesty's kingdom of Ireland to the enjoyment of its national rights--this system, of selecting anti-Repealers and excluding Repealers from the jury box, when a Repealer like me is to be tried, is calculated to bring the administration of justice into disesteem, disrepute, and hatred. I here protest against it. My lords and gentlemen of the jury, before I offer any reply to the charges in this indictment, and the further development of those charges made yesterday by the learned gentleman whose official duty it was to argue the government's case against me, I wish to apologise to the court for declining to avail myself of the professional assistance of the bar upon this occasion. It is not through any want of respect for the noble profession of the bar that I decline that assistance. I regard the duties of a lawyer as among the most respectable that a citizen can undertake. His education has taught him to investigate the origin, and to understand principles of law, and the true nature of loyalty. He has had to consider how the interests of individual citizens may harmonise with the interests of the community, how justice and liberty may be united, how the state may have both order and contentment. The application of the knowledge which he has gained--viz., the study of law to the daily facts of human society--sharpens and strengthens all his faculties, clears his judgment, helps him to distinguish true from false, and right from wrong. It is no wonder, gentlemen, that an accomplished and virtuous lawyer holds a high place in the aristocracy of merit in every free country. Like all things human, the legal profession has its dark as well as its bright side, has in it germs of decay and rotten foulness as well as of health and beauty; but yet it is a noble profession, and one which I admire and respect. But, above all, I would desire to respect the bar of my own country, and the Irish bar--the bar made illustrious by such memories as those of Grattan and Flood, and the Emmets, and Curran, and Plunket, and Saurin, and Holmes, and Sheil, and O'Connell. I may add, too, of Burke and of Sheridan, for they were Irish in all that made them great. The bar of Ireland wants this day only the ennobling inspirations of national freedom to raise it to a level with the world. Under the Union very few lawyers have been produced whose names can rank in history with any of the great names I have mentioned. But still, even the present times of decay, and when the Union is preparing to carry away our superior courts, and the remains of our bar to Westminster, and to turn that beautiful building upon the quay into a barrack like the Linen Hall, or an English tax-gatherer's office like the Custom House, there are many learned, accomplished, and respectable lawyers at the Irish bar, and far be it from me to doubt but that any Irish lawyer who might undertake my defence would loyally exert himself as the lofty idea of professional honour commands to save me from a conviction. But to this attack upon my character as a good citizen and upon my liberty, my lords and gentlemen, the only defence I could permit to be offered would be a full justification of my political conduct, morally, constitutionally, legally--a complete vindication of my acts and words alleged to be seditious and disloyal, and to retort against my accusers the charge of sedition and disloyalty. Not, indeed, that I would desire to prosecute these gentlemen upon that charge, if I could count upon convicting them and send them to the dungeon instead of myself. I don't desire to silence them, or to hurt a hair of their wigs because their political opinions differed from mine. Gentlemen, this prosecution against me, like the prosecutions just accomplished against two national newspapers, is part of a scheme of the ministers of the crown for suppressing all voice of protest against the Union, for suppressing all public complaint against the deadly results of the Union, and all advocacy by act, speech, or writing for Repeal of the Union. Now I am a Repealer so long as I have been a politician at all--that is for at least twenty-four years past. Until the national self-government of my country be first restored, there appears to me to be no place, no _locus standi_ (as lawyers say), for any other Irish political question, and I consider it to be my duty as a patriotic and loyal citizen, to endeavour by all honourable and prudent means to procure the Repeal of the Act of the Union, and the restoration of the independent Irish government, of which my country was (as I have said in my prosecuted speech), "by fraud and force," and against the will of the vast majority of its people of every race, creed, and class, though under false form of law, deprived sixty-seven years ago. Certainly, I do not dispute the right of you, gentlemen, or of any man in this court, or in all Ireland, to approve of the Union, to praise it, if you think right, as being wise and beneficent, and to advocate its continuance openly by act, speech, and writing. But I naturally think that my convictions in this matter of the Union ought to be shared by you also, gentlemen, and by the learned judges, and the lawyers, both crown lawyers and all others, and by the policemen and soldiers, and all faithful subjects of her Majesty in Ireland. Now, gentlemen, such being my convictions, were I to entrust my defence in this court to a lawyer, he must speak as a Repealer, not only for me, but for himself, not only as a professional advocate, but as a man, and from the heart. I cannot doubt but that there are very many Irish lawyers who privately share my convictions about Repeal. Believing as I do in my heart and conscience, and with all the force of the mind that God has given me, that Repeal is the right and the only right policy for Ireland--for healing all the wounds of our community, all our sectarian feuds, all our national shame, suffering, and peril--for making our country peaceful, industrious, prosperous, respectable, and happy--I cannot doubt but that in the enlightened profession of the bar there must be very many Irishmen who, like me, consider Repeal to be right, and best, and necessary for the public good. But, gentlemen, ever since the Union, by fraud and force and against the will of the Irish people, was enacted--ever since that act of usurpation by the English parliament of the sovereign rights of the queen, lords, and commons of Ireland--ever since this country was thereby rendered the subject instead of the sister of England--ever since the Union, but especially for about twenty years past, it has been the policy of those who got possession of the sovereign rights of the Irish crown to appoint to all places of public trust, emolument, or honour in Ireland only such as would submit, whether by parole or by tacit understanding, to suppress all public utterance of their desire for the Repeal of the Union such as has been the persistent policy towards this country of those who command all the patronage of Irish offices, paid and unpaid--the policy of all English ministers, whether Whig or Tory, combined with the disposal of the public forces--such a policy is naturally very effective in not really reconciling, but in keeping Ireland quietly subject to the Union. It is a hard trial of men's patriotism to be debarred from all career of profitable and honourable distinction in the public service of their own country. I do not wonder that few Irish lawyers, in presence of the mighty power of England, dare to sacrifice personal ambition and interest to what may seem a vain protest against accomplished facts. I do not wish to attack or offend them--as this court expresses it, to impute improper motives to them--by thus simply stating the sad facts which are relevant to my own case in this prosecution, and explaining that I decline professional assistance, because few lawyers would be so rash as to adopt my political convictions, and vindicate my political conduct as their own, and because if any lawyer were so bold as to offer me his aid on my own terms, I am too generous to permit him to ruin his professional career for my sake. Such are the reasons, gentlemen of the jury and my lords, why I am now going through this trial, not _secundum artum_, but like an eccentric patient who won't be treated by the doctors but will quack himself. Perhaps I would be safer if I did not say a word about the legal character of the charge made against me in this indictment. There are legal matters as dangerous to handle as any drugs in the pharmacopoeia. Yet I shall trouble you for a short time longer, while I endeavour to show that I have not acted in a way unbecoming a good citizen. The charge against me in this indictment is that I took part in an illegal procession by the provisions of the statute entitled in the Party Processions' Act. His lordship enumerated seven conditions, the violation of some one of which is necessary to render an assembly illegal at common law. Those seven conditions are--1. That the persons forming the assembly met to carry out an unlawful purpose. 2. That the numbers in which the persons met endangered the public peace. 3. That the assembly caused alarm to the peaceful subjects of the Queen. 4. That the assembly created disaffection. 5. That the assembly incited her Majesty's Irish subjects to hate her Majesty's English subjects--his lordship did not say anything of the case of an assembly inciting the Queen's English subjects to hate the Queen's Irish subjects, but no such case is likely to be tried here. 6. That the assembly intended to asperse the right and constitutional administration of justice; and 7. That the assembly intended to impair the functions of justice and to bring the administration of justice into disrepute. I say that the procession of the 8th December did not violate any one of these conditions--1. In the first place the persons forming that procession did not meet to carry out any unlawful purpose--their purpose was peaceably to express their opinion upon a public act of the public servants of the crown. 2. In the second place the numbers in which those persons met did not endanger the public peace. None of those persons carried arms. Thousands of those persons were women and children. There was no injury or offence attempted to be committed against anybody, and no disturbance of the peace took place. 3. In the third place the assembly caused no alarm to the peaceable subjects of the Queen--there is not a tittle of evidence to that effect. 4. In the fourth place the assembly did not create disaffection, neither was it intended or calculated to create disaffection. On the contrary, the assembly served to give peaceful expression to the opinion entertained by vast numbers of her Majesty's peaceful subjects upon a public act of the servants of the crown, an act which vast numbers of the Queen's subjects regretted and condemned. And thus the assembly was calculated to prevent or remove disaffection, and such open and peaceful manifestations of the real opinions of the Queen's subjects upon public affairs is the proper, safe, and constitutional way in which they may aid to prevent disaffection. 5. In the fifth place the assembly did not incite the Irish subjects of the Queen to hate her Majesty's subjects. On the contrary, it was a proper constitutional way of bringing about a right understanding upon a transaction which, if not fairly and fully explained and set right, must produce hatred between the two peoples. That transaction was calculated to produce hatred. But those who protest peaceably against such a transaction are not the party to be blamed, but those responsible for the transaction. 6. In the sixth place the assembly had no purpose of aspersing the right and constitutional administration of justice. Its tendency was peaceably to point out faults in the conduct of the servants of the crown, charged with the administration of justice, which faults were calculated to bring the administration of justice into disrepute. 7. Nor, in the seventh place, did the assembly impair the functions of justice, or intend or tend to do so. Even my prosecutors do not allege that judicial tribunals are infallible. It would be too absurd to make such an allegation in plain words. It is admitted on all hands that judges have sometimes given wrong directions, that juries have given wrong verdicts, that courts of justice have wrongfully appreciated the whole matter for trial. When millions of the Queen's subjects think that such wrong has been done, is it sedition for them to say so peaceably and publicly? On the contrary, the constitutional way for good citizens to act in striving to keep the administration of justice pure and above suspicion of unfairness, is by such open and peaceable protests. Thus, and thus only, may the functions of justice be saved from being impaired. In this case wrong had been done. Five men had been tried together upon the same evidence, and convicted together upon that evidence, and while one of the five was acknowledged by the crown to be innocent, and the whole conviction was thus acknowledged to be wrong and invalid, three of the five men were hanged upon that conviction. My friend, Mr. Sullivan, in his eloquent and unanswerable speech of yesterday, has so clearly demonstrated the facts of that unhappy and disgraceful affair of Manchester, that I shall merely say of it that I adopt every word he spoke upon the subject for mine, and to justify the sentiment and purpose with which I engaged in the procession of the 8th December. I say the persons responsible for that transanction are fairly liable to the charge of acting so as to bring the administration of justice into contempt, unless, gentlemen, you hold those persons to be infallible and hold that thay can do no wrong. But, gentlemen, the constitution does not say that the servants of the crown can do no wrong. According to the constitution the sovereign can do no wrong, but her servants may. In this case they have done wrong. And, gentlemen, you cannot right that wrong, nor save the administration of justice from the disreputation into which such proceedings are calculated to bring it, by giving a verdict to put my comrades and myself into jail for saying openly and peaceably that we believe the administration of justice in that unhappy affair did do wrong. But further, gentlemen, let us suppose that you twelve jurors, as well as the servants of the crown who are prosecuting me, and the two judges, consider me to be mistaken in my opinion upon that judicial proceeding, yet you have no right under the constitution to convict me of a misdemeanour for openly and peaceably expressing my opinion. You have no such right; and as to the wisdom of treating my differences of opinion and the peaceable expression of it as a penal offence--and the wisdom of a political act ought to be a serious question with all good and loyal citizens--consider that the opinion you are invited by the crown prosecutors to pronounce to be a penal offence is not mine alone, nor that of the five men herein indicted, but is the opinion of all the 30,000 persons estimated by the crown evidence to have taken part in the assembly of the 8th of December; is the opinion besides of the 90,000 or 100,000 others who, standing in the streets of this city, or at the open windows overlooking the streets traversed by the procession that day, manifested their sympathy with the objects of the procession; is the opinion, as you are morally certain, of some millions of your Irish fellow-subjects. By indicting me for the expression of that opinion the public prosecutors virtually indict some millions of the Queen's peaceable Irish subjects. It is only the convenience of this court--which could not hold the millions in one batch of traversers, and which would require daily sittings for several successive years to go through the proper formalities for duly trying all those millions; it is only the convenience of this court that can be pretended to relieve the crown prosecutors from the duty of trying and convicting all those millions if it is their duty to try and convict me. The right principles of law do not allow the servants of the crown to evade or neglect their duty of bringing to justice all offenders against the law. I suppose these gentlemen may allege that it is at their discretion what offenders against the law they will prosecute. I deny that the principles of the law allow them, or allow the Queen such discretion. The Queen, at her coronation services, swears to do justice to all her subjects according to the law. The Queen, certainly, has the right by the constitution to pardon any offenders against the law. She has the prerogative of mercy. But there can be no pardon, no mercy, till after an offence be proved in due course of law by accusation of the alleged offenders before the proper tribunals, followed by the plea of guilty or the jurors' verdict of guilty. And to select one man or six men for trial, condemnation, and punishment, out of, say, four millions who have really participated in the same alleged wicked, malicious, seditious, evil-disposed, and unlawful proceeding, is unfair to the six men, and unfair to the other 3,999,994 men--is a dereliction of duty on the part of the officers of the law, and is calculated to bring the administration of justice into disrepute. Equal justice is what the constitution demands. Under military authority an army may be decimated, and a few men may properly be punished, while the rest are left unpunished. But under a free constitution it is not so. Whoever breaks the law must be made amenable to punishment, or equal justice is not rendered to the subjects of the Queen. Is it not pertinent, therefore, gentlemen, for me to say to you this is an unwise proceeding which my prosecutors bid you to sanction by a verdict? I have heard it asked by a lawyer addressing this court as a question that must be answered in the negative--can you indict a whole nation? If such a proceeding as this prosecution against the peaceable procession of the 8th December receives the sanction of your verdict, that question must be answered in the affirmative. It will need only a crown prosecutor, an attorney-general, and a solicitor-general, two judges, and twelve jurors, all of the one mind, while all the other subjects of the Queen in Ireland are of a different mind, and the five millions and a half of the Queen's subjects of Ireland outside that circle of seventeen of her Majesty's subjects, may be indicted, convicted, and consigned to penal imprisonment in due form of law--a law as understood in political trials in Ireland. Gentlemen, I have thus far endeavoured to argue from the common sense of mankind, with which the principles of law must be in accord, that the peaceable procession of the 8th of December--that peaceable demonstration of the sentiment of millions of the Queen's subjects in Ireland--did not violate any of the seven conditions of the learned judge to the grand jury in defining what constitutes an illegal assembly at common law; and I have also argued that the prosecution is unwise, and calculated to excite discontent. Gentlemen, I shall now endeavour to show you that the procession of the 8th of December did not violate the statute entitled the Party Processions' Act. The learned judge in his charge told the grand jury that under this act all processions are illegal which carry weapons of offence, or which carry symbols calculated to promote the animosity of some other class of her Majesty's subjects. Applying the law to this case, his lordship remarked that the processions of the 8th of December had something of military array--that is, they went in regular order with a regular step. But, gentlemen, there were no arms in that procession, there were no symbols in that procession intended or calculated to provoke animosity in any other class of the Queen's subjects, or in any human creature. There were neither symbol, nor deed, or word intended to provoke animosity, and as to the military array--is it not absurd to attribute a warlike character to an unarmed and perfectly peaceful assemblage, in which there were some thousands of women and children? No offence was given or offered any human being. The authorities were so assured of the peacefulness and inoffensiveness of the assemblage that the police were withdrawn in a great measure from their ordinary duties of preventing disorders. And as to the remark that the people walked with a regular step, I need only say that was done for the sake of order and decorum. It would be merely to doubt whether you are men of common sense if I argued any further to satisfy you that the procession did not violate the Party Processions' Act, such as it is defined by the learned judge. The speech delivered on that occasion is an important element in forming a judgment upon the character and object of the procession. The speech declared the procession to be a peaceable expression of the opinion of those who composed it upon an important public transaction, an expression of sorrow and indignation at an act of the ministers of the government. It was a protest against that act--a protest which those who disapproved of it were entitled by the constitution to make, and which they made, peaceably and legitimately. Has not every individual of the millions of the Queen's subjects the right to say so say openly whether he approves or disapproves of any public act of the Queen's ministers? Has not all the Queen's subjects the right to say altogether if they can without disturbance of the Queen's peace? The procession enabled many thousands to do that without the least inconvenience or danger to themselves, and with no injury or offence to their neighbours. To prohibit or punish peaceful, inoffensive, orderly, and perfectly innocent processions upon pretence that they are constructively unlawful, is unconstitutional tyranny. Was it done because the ministers discovered that the terror of suspended habeas corpus had not in this matter stifled public opinion? Of course, if anything be prohibited by government, the people obey--of course I obey. I would not have held the procession had I not understood that it was permitted. But understanding that it was permitted, and so believing that it might serve the people for a safe and useful expression of their sentiment, I held the procession. I did not hold the procession because I believed it to be illegal, but because I believed it to be legal and understood it to be permitted. In this country it is not law that must rule a loyal citizen's conduct, but the caprice of the English ministers. For myself, I acknowledge that I submit to such a system of government unwillingly, and with constant hope for the restoration of the reign of law, but I do submit. Why at first did the ministers of the crown permit an expression of censure upon that judicial proceeding at Manchester by a procession--why did they not warn her Majesty's subjects against the danger of breaking the law? Was it not because they thought that the terrors of the suspended habeas corpus would be enough to prevent the people from coming openly forward at all to express their real sentiments? Was it because they found that so vehement and so general was the feeling of indignation at that unhappy transaction at Manchester that they did venture to come openly forward--with perfect peacefulness and most careful observance of the peace to express their real sentiments--that the ministry proclaimed down the procession, and now prosecute us in order to stifle public opinion? Gentlemen of the jury, I have said enough to convince any twelve reasonable men that there was nothing in my conduct in the matter of that procession which you can declare on your oaths to be "malicious, seditious, ill-disposed, and intended to disturb the peace and tranquility of the realm." I shall trouble you no further, except by asking you to listen to the summing up of this indictment, and, while you listen to judge between me and the attorney-general. I shall read you my words and his comment. Judge of us, Irish jurors, which of us two are guilty:--"Let us, therefore, conclude this proceeding by joining heartily, with hats off, in the prayer of those three men, 'God save Ireland.'" "Thereby," says the attorney-general in his indictment, "meaning, and intending to excite hatred, dislike, and animosity against her Majesty and the government, and bring into contempt the administration of justice and the laws of this realm, and cause strife and hatred between her Majesty's subjects in Ireland and in England, and to excite discontent and disaffection against her Majesty's government." Gentlemen, I have now done.

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

   As the companion tells it

   Dublin, the city ahead on the road, was where a massive procession took place on the 8th of December 1867. John Martin, a committed Repealer who had sought the repeal of the Act of Union for at least 24 years, was prosecuted for his part in it. The procession was an unarmed assembly. Crown evidence estimated 30,000 marchers, with thousands of women and children among them, and another 90,000 or 100,000 people lined the streets or watched from open windows in sympathy. They were protesting the Manchester executions, where three men were hanged after five were convicted together on the same evidence, even though the crown acknowledged one of the five was innocent. Martin argued the procession broke none of the seven conditions that made an assembly illegal at common law. No one carried arms, no symbols were displayed to provoke animosity, and no disturbance occurred. The authorities were so assured of its peacefulness that they withdrew the police from their ordinary duties. Martin believed the procession was legal and permitted, and held it so people could safely express their opinion on a public act of the crown's servants. He told the jury that by indicting him, the prosecutors were virtually indicting the millions who shared that opinion, and asked them to judge between him and the attorney-general.

9. Thousands Proceed to Glasnevin in Mourning

   near Glasnevin Cemetery · graveyard cemetery burial ground · Dublin · 1867

   The Ulster Observer described how amidst piercing cold and torrential rain, some 80,000 people proceeded to Glasnevin to honour the memory of the executed men, comparing the scene to the mourning of Germanicus in ancient Rome.

   Read the passage

   The main incidents of the singular and impressive event are worthy of reflection. On a cold December morning, wet and dreary as any morning in December might be, vast crowds assembled in the heart of Dublin to follow to consecrated ground the empty hearses which bore the names of the Irishmen whom England doomed to the gallows as murderers. The air was piercingly chill, the rain poured down in torrents, the streets were almost impassable from the accumulated pools of mingled water and mud, yet 80,000 people braved the inclemency of the weather, and unfalteringly carried out the programme so fervently adopted. Amongst the vast multitude there were not only stalwart men, capable of facing the difficulties of the day, but old men, who struggled through and defied them; and, strangest of all, 'young ladies, clothed in silk and velvet,' and women with tender children by their sides, all of whom continued to the last to form a part of the _cortege_, although the distance over which it passed must have taxed the strongest physical energy. What a unanimity of feeling, or rather what a naturalness of sentiment does not this wonderful demonstration exhibit? It seems as if the 'God save Ireland' of the humble successors of Emmet awoke in even the breast of infancy the thrill which must have vibrated sternly and strongly in the heart of manhood. Without exalting into classical grandeur the simple and affectionate devotion of a simple and unsophisticated people, we might compare this spectacle to that which ancient Rome witnessed, when the ashes of Germanicus were borne in solemn state within her portals. There were there the attendant crowd of female mourners, and the bowed heads and sorrowing hearts of strong men. If the Irish throngs had no hero to lament, who sustained their glory in the field, and gained for them fresh laurels of victory, theirs was at least a more disinterested tribute of grief, since it was paid to the unpretending merit which laid down, life with the simple prayer of 'God save Ireland!' Amidst all the numerous thousands who proceeded to Glasnevin, there was not, probably, one who would have sympathised with any criminal offence, much less with the hideous one of murder. And yet these thousands honoured and revered the memory of the men condemned in England as assassins, and ignominiously buried in felons' graves.

   Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 3

   As the companion tells it

   Somewhere about Glasnevin Cemetery, in December 1867, a vast crowd marched through freezing rain to honour the memory of Irishmen executed in England. The morning was cold and dreary, the streets almost impassable with pools of water and mud, yet 80,000 people braved the weather and followed empty hearses that carried the names of the condemned men. Stalwart men came, and old men who struggled through, and young ladies clothed in silk and velvet, and women with children by their sides, all staying with the procession to the end. The Ulster Observer compared the scene to ancient Rome mourning Germanicus, when the ashes of a hero were borne in solemn state through the city, with female mourners and the bowed heads of strong men. The Irish throngs had no hero who won glory in the field, but theirs was a more disinterested tribute of grief, paid to men who laid down their lives with the prayer, "God save Ireland." Among the thousands who proceeded to Glasnevin, the writer said, there was probably not one who would have sympathised with any criminal offence. Yet they honoured and revered the memory of the men condemned as assassins and buried in felons' graves.

10. Chaotic Prosecution Hearing at the Head Police Office, Dublin

    near Exchange Court · street · Dublin · 1867

    At the Head Police Office in Exchange-court, Dublin, defendants John Martin, A.M. Sullivan and others faced crown summonses over the funeral procession; the hearing descended into disorder as summoned witnesses publicly refused to testify and denounced the prosecution as a plot, forcing an adjournment amid uproar.

    Read the passage

    The adjournment of the court was attended with a scene of tumult and disorder that was rarely, or never, witnessed in a police court, in presence of the magistrates and a large number of police--both inspectors and detectives. The crowd of unwilling witnesses who had been summoned to give evidence against the defendants, clamorously protested against being brought there as crown witnesses, avowed that they were present taking part in the procession, and loudly declared that they would not attend at any subsequent hearing of the case. The latter part of the case indeed was marked with frequent interruptions and declarations of a similar kind, often very vociferously uttered. The proceedings terminated amid the greatest and unchecked disorder.

    In plain words, "Scene I, Act I," in what was meant to be a most solemn, awe-inspiring government function, turned out an unmistakable farce, if not a disastrous break down. Even the government journals themselves, without waiting for "Scene II.," (though coming off immediately) raised a shout of condemnation of the discreditable bungle, and demanded that it should be forthwith abandoned. Considering the course ultimately taken by the government, these utterances of the government organs themselves, have a serious meaning and are of peculiar importance. The ultra-orange _Evening Mail_ (Tuesday, 17th December,) said:--

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 5

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about Exchange Court, the Head Police Office held a prosecution hearing in 1867 that fell apart in chaos. Defendants John Martin, A.M. Sullivan and others faced crown summonses over the funeral procession. But the witnesses who had been summoned to testify against them refused. They stood up in court and clamorously protested against being brought there as crown witnesses. They avowed that they were present, taking part in the procession themselves, and loudly declared they would not attend any subsequent hearing. The magistrates and a large number of police, inspectors and detectives alike, were present, but nothing could check the disorder. Frequent interruptions, often vociferously uttered, marked the latter part of the proceedings. The court terminated amid the greatest and unchecked disorder. What was meant to be a solemn, awe-inspiring government function turned out a farce, if not a disastrous breakdown. Even the government journals raised a shout of condemnation of the discreditable bungle and demanded it be forthwith abandoned. The ultra-orange Evening Mail on Tuesday the 17th of December said its piece, and the government itself ultimately took notice.

11. Procession cheers outside Fenian convict Hayburne's shop

    Thomas Street · street · Dublin · 1867

    As the procession passed the shop of Hayburne, who had been convicted of being connected with the Fenian conspiracy, a large number of persons in the procession uncovered their hats and cheered.

    Read the passage

    About one o'clock the head of the procession, which had been compressed into a dense mass in Stevens'-lane, burst like confined water when relieved of restraint, on entering James's-street, where every window and doorstep was crowded. Along the lines of footway extending at either side from the old fountain up to James's-gate, were literally tented over with umbrellas of every hue and shade, held up as protection against the cold rain that fell in drizzling showers and made the streetway on which the vast numbers stood ankle deep in the slushy mud. The music of the "Dead March in Saul," heard in the distance, caused the people to break from the lines in which they had partially stood awaiting the arrival of the procession, which now, for the first time, began to assume its full proportions. As it moved along the quays at the north side of the river, every street, bridge, and laneway served to obstruct to a considerable extent its progress and its order, owing to interruption from carriage traffic and from the crowds that poured into it and swelled it in its onward course. In the vast multitudes that lined this great western artery of the city, the greatest order and propriety were observed, and all seemed to be impressed with the one solemn and all-pervading idea that they were assembled to express their deep sympathy with the fate of three men whom they believed had been condemned and had suffered death unjustly. Even amongst the young there was not to be recognised the slightest approach to levity, and the old characteristics of a great Irish gathering were not to be perceived anywhere. The wrong, whether real or imaginary, done to Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin, made their memory sacred with the thousands that stood for hours in the December wet and cold of yesterday, to testify by their presence their feelings and their sympathies. The horsemen wearing green rosettes, trimmed with crape, who rode in advance of the procession, kept back the crowds at either side that encroached on the space in the centre of the street required for the vast coming mass to move through. On it came, the advance with measured tread, to the music of the band in front, and notwithstanding the mire which had to be waded through, the line went on at quiet pace, and with admirable order, but there was no effort at anything like semi-military swagger or pompous demonstration. Every window along the route of the procession was fully occupied by male and female spectators, all wearing green ribbons and crape, and in front of several of the houses black drapery was suspended. The tide of men, women, and children continued to roll on in the drenching rain, but nearly all the fair processionists carried umbrellas. It was not till the head of the vast moving throng had reached James's-gate that anything like a just conception could be formed of its magnitude, as it was only now that it was beginning to get into regular shape and find room to extend itself. The persons whose duty it was to keep the several parts of the procession well together had no easy part to play, as the line had to be repeatedly broken to permit the ordinary carriage traffic of the streets to go on with as little delay as possible. The _cortege_ at this point looked grand and solemn in the extreme because of its vastness, and also because of all present appearing to be impressed with the one idea. The gloomy, wet, and cheerless weather was quite in keeping with the funeral march of 35,000 people. The bands were placed at such proper distances that the playing of one did not interfere with the other. After passing James's-gate the band in front ceased to perform, and on passing the house 151 Thomas-street every head was uncovered in honour of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was arrested and mortally wounded by Major Sirr and his assistants in the front bedroom of the second floor of that house. Such was the length of the procession, that an hour had elapsed from the time its head entered James's-street before the first hearse turned the corner of Stevens'-lane. In the neighbourhood of St. Catherine's church a vast crowd of spectators had settled down, and every available elevation was taken possession of. At this point a large portion of the streetway was broken up for the purpose of laying down water-pipes, and on the lifting-crane and the heaps of earth the people wedged and packed themselves, which showed at once that this was a great centre of attraction--and it was, for here was executed the young and enthusiastic Robert Emmet sixty-four years ago. When Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin were condemned to death as political offenders, some of the highest and the noblest in the land warned the government to pause before the extreme penalty pronounced on the condemned men would be carried into effect, but all remonstrance was in vain, and on last Saturday fortnight, three comparatively unknown men in their death passed into the ranks of heroes and martyrs, because it was believed, and believed generally, that their lives were sacrificed to expediency, and not to satisfy justice. The spot where Robert Emmet closed his young life on a bloody scaffold was yesterday regarded by thousands upon thousands of his countrymen and women as a holy place, and all looked upon his fate as similar to that of the three men whose memory they had assembled to honour, and whose death they pronounced to be unjust. It would be hard to give a just conception of the scene here, as the procession advanced and divided, as it were, into two great channels, owing to the breaking up of the streetway. On the advance of the _cortege_ reaching the top of Bridgefoot-street every head was uncovered, and nothing was to be heard but the measured tread of the vast mass, but as if by some secret and uncontrollable impulse a mighty, ringing, and enthusiastic cheer, broke from the moving throng as the angle of the footway at the eastern end of St. Catherine's church, where the scaffold on which Emmet was executed stood, was passed. In that cheer there appeared to be no fiction, as it evidently came straight from the hearts of thousands, who waved their hats and handkerchiefs, as did also the groups that clustered in the windows of the houses in the neighbourhood. As the procession moved on from every part of it the cheers rose again and again, men holding up their children, and pointing out the place where one who loved Ireland, "not wisely but too well," rendered up his life. When the hearse with white plumes came up bearing on the side draperies the words "William P. Allen," all the enthusiasm and excitement ceased, and along the lines of spectators prayers for the repose of the soul of the departed man passed from mouth to mouth; and a sense of deep sadness seemed to settle down on the swaying multitude as the procession rolled along on its way. After this hearse came large numbers of females walking on bravely, apparently heedless of the muddy streets and the unceasing rain that came down without a moment's intermission. When the second hearse, bearing white plumes and the name of "Michael O'Brien" on the side pendants, came up, again all heads were uncovered, and prayers recited by the people for the everlasting rest of the departed. Still onward rolled the mighty mass, young and old, and in the entire assemblage was not to be observed a single person under the influence of drink, or requiring the slightest interference on the part of the police, whose exertions were altogether confined to keeping the general thoroughfare clear of obstruction. Indeed, justly speaking, the people required no supervision, as they seemed to feel that they had a solemn duty to discharge. Fathers were to be seen bearing in their arms children dressed in white and decorated with green ribbons, and here, as elsewhere, was observed unmistakable evidence of the deep sympathy of the people with the executed men. This was, perhaps, more strikingly illustrated as the third hearse, with sable plumes, came up bearing at either side the name of "Michael Larkin;" prayers for his soul's welfare were mingled with expressions of commiseration for his widow and children. At the entrance to Cornmarket, where the streetway narrows, the crushing became very great, but still the procession kept its onward course. On passing the shop of Hayburne, who, it will be remembered, was convicted of being connected with the Fenian conspiracy, a large number of persons in the procession uncovered and cheered. In the house of Roantree, in High-street, who was also convicted of treason-felony, a harp was displayed in one of the drawingroom windows by a lady dressed in deep mourning, and the procession loudly cheered as it passed on its route.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    On this street, Thomas Street, in December 1867, a funeral procession of 35,000 people passed through cold rain and mud. It was for Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin, three men condemned to death as political offenders, whom thousands believed had been sacrificed to expediency rather than justice. The procession had formed up in Stevens'-lane and moved through James's-street, every window and doorstep crowded, the people standing ankle deep in slushy mud under umbrellas of every hue. The bands played the Dead March in Saul at proper distances. Horsemen in green rosettes trimmed with crape rode in advance. At house 151 Thomas Street, every head was uncovered in honour of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was arrested and mortally wounded by Major Sirr and his assistants in the front bedroom of the second floor of that house. Near St. Catherine's church, where Robert Emmet had been executed sixty-four years before, the crowd broke into a mighty ringing cheer as they passed the angle of the footway where the scaffold had stood. Men held up their children and pointed out the place. Three hearses came through, one by one. William P. Allen's, with white plumes. Michael O'Brien's, with white plumes. Michael Larkin's, with sable plumes. At each hearse, all heads were uncovered and prayers passed from mouth to mouth for the souls of the dead. Then, as the procession passed the shop of Hayburne, who had been convicted of being connected with the Fenian conspiracy, a large number of persons in the procession uncovered and cheered. Nearby, in High-street, at the house of Roantree, also convicted of treason-felony, a harp was displayed in a drawing room window by a lady dressed in deep mourning, and the procession loudly cheered as it passed on its route.

12. Sullivan denounces prosecution and Manchester executions

    near Exchange Court · street · Dublin · 1867

    At the Head Police Office, Sullivan gave an extended speech accusing the government of violating law and packing juries, and defended Catholic mourning for the Manchester Martyrs as an expression of belief in their innocence, not sympathy with murder.

    Read the passage

    It is because the people love justice and abhor injustice--because the real crime of those three victims is believed to have been devotion to native land--that the Catholic churches of Ireland resound with prayers and requiem hymns, and the public highways were lined with sympathising thousands, until the guilty fears of the executioners proclaimed it illegal to mourn. Think you, sir, if the crown view of this matter were the true one, would the Catholic clergy of Ireland--they who braved fierce and bitter unpopularity in reprehending the Fenian conspiracy at a time when Lord Mayo's organ was patting it on the back for its 'fine Sardinian spirit'--would these ministers of religion drape their churches for three common murderers? I repel as a calumnious and slanderous accusation against the Catholic clergy of Ireland this charge, that by their mourning for those three martyred Irishmen, they expressed sympathy, directly or indirectly, with murder or life-taking. If an act be seditious, it is not the less illegal in the church than in the graveyard, or on the road to the cemetery. Are we, then, to understand that our churches are to be invaded by bands of soldiery, and our priests dragged from the altars, for the seditious crime of proclaiming aloud their belief in the innocence of Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien? This, sir, is what depends on the decision in this case, here or elsewhere. All this and more. It is to be decided whether, in their capacity of Privy Councillors, the judges of the land shall put forth a proclamation the legality or binding force of which they will afterwards sit as judges to try. It is whether, there being no constitution now allowed to exist in the country, there is to be no law save what a Castle proclamation will construct, permit, or decree; no mourning save what the police will license; no demonstration of opinion save whatever accords with the government views. We hear much of the liberties enjoyed in this country. No doubt, we have fine constitutional rights and securities, until the very time they are most required. When we have no need to invoke them, they are permitted to us; but at the only time when they might be of substantial value, they are, as the phrase goes, "suspended." Who, unless in times of governmental panic, need apprehend unwarranted arrest? When else is the _Habeas Corpus_ Act of such considerable protection to the subject? When, unless when the crown seeks to invade public liberty, is the purity and integrity of trial by jury of such value and importance in political cases? Yet all the world knows that the British government, whenever such a conflict arises, juggles and packs the jury--

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about Exchange Court, in 1867, Sullivan stood at the Head Police Office and gave a speech that turned the prosecution's case against the government itself. He defended the Catholic churches of Ireland that had resounded with prayers and requiem hymns for Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien, the three men executed in Manchester. He said the people mourned them not because they were murderers but because their real crime was believed to be devotion to native land. Sullivan turned on the accusation that the Catholic clergy, by draping their churches, expressed sympathy with murder. He called it a calumnious and slanderous charge. He pointed out that these same priests had braved bitter unpopularity in reprehending the Fenian conspiracy at a time when Lord Mayo's organ was praising it for what Sullivan called its fine Sardinian spirit. Would those ministers of religion, he asked, drape their churches for three common murderers? He warned that the decision in this case would determine whether churches could be invaded by soldiery and priests dragged from the altars for proclaiming their belief in the innocence of the three dead men. He said it would decide whether there was to be no law save what a Castle proclamation would construct, no mourning save what the police would license, no demonstration of opinion save what accorded with government views. He spoke of constitutional rights and securities that were permitted until the very time they were most required, then suspended. He said that whenever a conflict arose, the British government juggled and packed the jury.

13. The Dublin Funeral Procession Cited as 'Glorifying Murder'

    Dublin · city · Dublin · 1867

    The crown's prosecution case centred on the funeral procession held in Dublin on 8 December, alleging it was a mass demonstration of sympathy with murder rather than an act of mourning. Sullivan argued the crown deliberately hid the true motives of the mourners, numbering in the tens of thousands.

    Read the passage

    My lords and gentlemen of the jury--I rise to address you under circumstances of embarassment which will, I hope, secure for me a little consideration and indulgence at your hands. I have to ask you at the outset to banish any prejudice that might arise in your minds against a man who adopts the singular course--who undertakes the serious responsibility--of pleading his own defence. Such a proceeding might be thought to be dictated either by disparagement of the ordinary legal advocacy, by some poor idea of personal vanity, or by way of reflection on the tribunal before which the defence is made. My conduct is dictated by neither of these considerations or influences. Last of all men living should I reflect upon the ability, zeal, and fidelity of the Bar of Ireland, represented as it has been in my own behalf within the past two days by a man whose heart and genius are, thank God, still left to the service of our country, and represented, too, as it has been here this day by that gifted young advocate, the echoes of whose eloquence still resound in this court, and place me at disadvantage in immediately following him. And assuredly I design no disrespect to this court; either to tribunal in the abstract, or to the individual judges who preside; from one of whom I heard two days ago delivered in my own case a charge of which I shall say--though followed by a verdict which already consigns me to a prison--that it was, judging it as a whole, the fairest, the clearest, the most just and impartial ever given to my knowledge, in a political case of this kind in Ireland between the subject and the crown. No; I stand here in my own defence to-day, because long since I formed the opinion that, on many grounds, in such a prosecution as this, such a course would be the most fair and most consistent for a man like me. That resolution I was, for the sake of others, induced to depart from on Saturday last, in the first prosecution against me. When it came to be seen that I was the first to be tried out of two journalists prosecuted, it was strongly urged on me that my course, and the result of my trial, might largely affect the case of the other journalist to be tried after, me; and that I ought to waive my individual views and feelings, and have the utmost legal ability brought to bear in behalf of the case of the national press at the first point of conflict. I did so. I was defended by a bar not to be surpassed in the kingdom for ability and earnest zeal; yet the result was what I anticipated. For I knew, as I had held all along, that in a case like this, where law and fact are left to the jury, legal ability is of no avail if the crown comes in with its arbitrary power of moulding the jury. In that case, as in this one, I openly, publicly, and distinctly announced that I for my part would challenge no one, whether with cause or without cause. Yet the crown--in the face of this fact--and in a case where they knew that at least the accused had no like power of peremptory challenge--did not venture to meet me on equal footing; did not venture to abstain from their practice of absolute challenge; in fine, did not dare to trust their case to twelve men "indifferently chosen," as the constitution supposes a jury to be. Now, gentlemen, before I enter further upon this jury question, let me say that with me this is no complaint merely against "the Tories." On this as well as on numerous other subjects, it is well known that it has been my unfortunate lot to arraign both Whigs and Tories. I say further, that I care not a jot whether the twelve men selected or permitted by the crown to try me, or rather to convict me, by twelve of my own co-religionists and political compatriots, or twelve Protestants, Conservatives, Tories, or "Orangemen." Understand me clearly on this. My objection is not to the individuals comprising the jury. You may be all Catholics, or you may be all Protestants, for aught that affects my protest, which is against the mode by which you are selected--selected by the crown--their choice for their own ends--and not "indifferently chosen" between the crown and the accused. You may disappoint, or you may justify the calculations of the crown official, who has picked you out from the panel, by negative or positive choice (I being silent and powerless)--you may or may not be all he supposes--the outrage on the spirit of the constitution is the same. I say, by such a system of picking a jury by the crown, I am not put upon my country. Gentlemen, from the first moment these proceedings were commenced against me, I think it will be admitted that I endeavoured to meet them fairly and squarely, promptly and directly. I have never once turned to the right or to the left, but gone straight to the issue. I have from the outset declared my perfect readiness to meet the charges of the crown. I did not care when or where they tried me. I said I would avail of no technicality--that I would object to no juror--Catholic, Protestant, or Dissenter. All I asked--all I demanded--was to be "put upon my country," in the real, fair, and full sense and spirit of the constitution. All I asked was that the crown would keep its hand off the panel, as I would keep off mine. I had lived fifteen years in this city; and I should have lived in vain, if, amongst the men that knew me in that time, whatever might be their political or religious creed, I feared to have my acts, my conduct, or principles tried. It is the first and most original condition of society that a man shall subordinate his public acts to the welfare of the community, or at least acknowledge the right of those amongst whom his lot is cast, to judge him on such an issue as this. Freely I acknowledge that right. Readily have I responded to the call to submit to the judgment of my country, the question whether, in demonstrating my sorrow and sympathy for misfortune, my admiration for fortitude, my vehement indignation against what I considered to be injustice, I had gone too far and invaded the rights of the community. Gentlemen, I desire in all that I have to say to keep or be kept within what is regular and seemly, and above all to utter nothing wanting in respect for the court; but I do say, and I do protest, that I have not got trial by jury according to the spirit and meaning of the constitution. It is as representatives of the general community, not as representatives of the crown officials, the constitution supposes you to sit in that box. If you do not fairly represent the community, and if you are not empanelled indifferently in that sense, you are no jury in the spirit of the constitution. I care not how the crown practice may be within the technical letter of the law, it violates the intent and meaning of the constitution, and it is not "trial by jury." Let us suppose the scene removed, say, to France. A hundred names are returned on what is called a panel by a state functionary for the trial of a journalist charged with sedition. The accused is powerless to remove any name from the list unless for over-age or non-residence. But the imperial prosecutor has the arbitrary power of ordering as many as he pleases to "stand aside." By this means he puts or allows on the jury only whomsoever he pleases. He can, beforehand, select the twelve, and, by wiping out, if it suits him, the eighty-eight other names, put the twelve of his own choosing into the box. Can this be called trial by jury? Would not it be the same thing, in a more straightforward way, to let the crown-solicitor send out a policeman and collect twelve well-accredited persons of his own mind and opinion? For my own part, I would prefer this plain-dealing, and consider far preferable the more rude but honest hostility of a drum-head court martial (applause in the court). Again I say, understand me well, I am objecting to the principle, the system, the practice, and not to the twelve gentlemen now before me as individuals. Personally, I am confident that being citizens of Dublin, whatever your views or opinions, you are honourable and conscientious men. You may have strong prejudices against me or my principles in public life--very likely you have; but I doubt not that though these may unconsciously tinge your judgment and influence your verdict, you will not consciously violate the obligations of your oath. And I care not whether the crown, in permitting you to be the twelve, ordered three, or thirteen, or thirty others to "stand by"--or whether those thus arbitrarily put aside were Catholics or Protestants, Liberals, Conservatives, or Nationalists--the moment the crown put its finger at all on the panel, in a case where the accused had no equal right, the essential character of the jury was changed, and the spirit of the constitution was outraged. And now, what is the charge against my fellow-traversers and myself? The solicitor-general put it very pithily awhile ago when he said our crime was "glorifying the cause of murder." The story of the crown is a very terrible, a very startling one. It alleges a state of things which could hardly be supposed to exist amongst the Thugs of India. It depicts a population so hideously depraved that thirty thousand of them in one place, and tens of thousands in various other places, arrayed themselves publicly in procession to honour and glorify murder--to sympathise with murderers as murderers. Yes, gentlemen, that is the crown case, or they have no case at all--that the funeral procession in Dublin on the 8th December last was a demonstration of sympathy with murder as murder. For you will have noted that never once in his smart narration of the crown story, did Mr. Harrison allow even the faintest glimmer to appear of any other possible complexion or construction of our conduct. Why, I could have imagined it easy for him not merely to state his own case, but to state ours too, and show where we failed, and where his own side prevailed. I could easily imagine Mr. Harrison stating our view of the matter--and combatting it. But he never once dared to even mention our case. His whole aim was to hide it from you, and to fasten, as best such efforts of his could fasten, in your minds this one miserable refrain--"They glorified the cause of murder and assassination." But this is no new trick. It is the old story of the maligners of our people. They call the Irish a turbulent, riotous, crime-loving, law-hating race. They are for ever pointing to the unhappy fact--for, gentlemen, it is a fact--that between the Irish people and the laws under which they now live there is little or no sympathy, but bitter estrangement and hostility of feeling or of action. Bear with me if I examine this charge, since an understanding of it is necessary in order to judge our conduct on the 8th December last. I am driven upon this extent of defence by the singular conduct of the solicitor-general, who, with a temerity which he will repent, actually opened the page of Irish history, going back upon it just so far as it served his own purpose, and no farther. Ah! fatal hour for my prosecutors when they appealed to history. For assuredly, that is the tribunal that will vindicate the Irish people, and confound those who malign them as sympathisers with assassination and glorifiers of murder--

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

    As the companion tells it

    Coming through Dublin, this city was where a funeral procession on the 8th of December 1867 led to a prosecution. The crown's case was that thirty thousand people in one place, and tens of thousands in various other places, arrayed themselves publicly in procession to honour and glorify murder, to sympathise with murderers as murderers. The solicitor-general called the crime, in his words, "glorifying the cause of murder." A man named Sullivan stood in his own defence. He told the jury he undertook this not from vanity or disrespect for the court, but because he believed it most fair. He was one of two journalists prosecuted, and the first to be tried. When that became clear, it was urged on him that his trial might affect the other journalist's case, so he waived his own views and brought in legal counsel. The result was a conviction. He said that where the crown comes with its arbitrary power of moulding the jury, legal ability is of no avail. He had challenged no juror, but the crown did not trust its case to twelve men indifferently chosen. He had lived fifteen years in this city and asked only to be, in his words, "put upon my country." He said the solicitor-general never once allowed even the faintest glimmer of any other interpretation of the procession to appear. The whole aim was to hide the true case from the jury. He told them the mourners came to demonstrate sorrow and sympathy for misfortune, admiration for fortitude, and vehement indignation against what he considered injustice. That was what the crown refused to let the jury see.

14. Beresford Place as the gathering point for the great procession

    Beresford Place · street · Dublin · 1867

    On 8 December 1867 crowds began assembling at Beresford Place from ten o'clock, swelling to around ten thousand within an hour, with more streaming in from Kingstown, Dalkey and surrounding townlands via the Custom House area.

    Read the passage

    As early as ten o'clock crowds began to gather in Beresford-place, and in an hour about ten thousand men were present. The morning had succeeded to the hopeless humidity of the night, and the drizzling rain fell with almost dispiteous persistence. The early trains from Kingstown and Dalkey, and all the citerior townlands, brought large numbers into Dublin; and Westland-row, Brunswick, D'Olier, and Sackville-streets, streamed with masses of humanity. A great number of the processionists met in Earlsfort-terrace, all round the Exhibition, and at twelve o'clock some thousands had collected. It was not easy to learn the object of this gathering; it may have been a mistake, and most probably it was, as they fell in with the great body in the course of half an hour. The space from the quays, including the great sweep in front of the Custom-house, was swarming with men, and women, and small children, and the big ungainly crowd bulged out in Gardiner-street, and the broad space leading up Talbot-street. The ranks began to be formed at eleven o'clock amid a down-pour of cold rain. The mud was deep and aqueous, and great pools ran through the streets almost level with the paths. Some of the more prominent of the men, and several of the committee, rode about directing and organizing the crowd, which presented a most extraordinary appearance. A couple of thousand young children stood quietly in the rain and slush for over an hour; while behind them, in close-packed numbers, were over two thousand young women. Not the least blame can be attached to those who managed the affairs of the day, inasmuch as the throng must have far exceeded even their most sanguine expectations. Every moment some overwhelming accession rolled down Abbey-street or Eden-quay, and swelled the already surging multitude waiting for the start. Long before twelve o'clock, the streets converging on the square were packed with spectators or intending processionists. Cabs struggled hopelessly to yield up the large number of highly respectable and well-attired ladies who had come to walk. Those who had hired vehicles for the day to join the procession were convinced of the impracticable character of their intention; and many delicate old men who would not give up the design, braved the terrors of asthma and bronchitis, and joined the rain-defying throng. Right across the spacious ground was one unmoving mass, constantly being enlarged by ever-coming crowds. All the windows in Beresford-place were filled with spectators, and the rain and cold seemed to have no saddening effect on the numerous multitude. The various bands of the trade were being disposed in their respective positions, and the hearses were a long way off and altogether in the back-ground, when, at a quarter to twelve, the first rank of men moved forward. Almost every one had an umbrella, but they were thoroughly saturated with the never-ceasing down-pour. As the steady, well-kept, twelve-deep ranks moved slowly out, some ease was given to those pent up behind; and it was really wonderful to see the facility with which the people adapted themselves to the orders of their directors. Every chance of falling in was seized, and soon the procession was in motion. The first five hundred men were of the artisan class. They were dressed very respectably, and each man wore upon his left shoulder a green rosette, and on his left arm a band of crape. Numbers had hat-bands depending to the shoulder; others had close crape intertwined carefully with green ribbon around their hats; and the great majority of the better sort adhered to this plan, which was executed with a skill unmistakably feminine. Here and there at intervals a man appeared with a broad green scarf around his shoulders, some embroidered with shamrocks, and others decorated with harps. There was not a man throughout the procession but was conspicuous by some emblem of nationality. Appointed officers walked at the sides with wands in their hands and gently kept back the curious and interested crowd whose sympathy was certainly demonstrative. Behind the five hundred men came a couple of thousand young children. These excited, perhaps, the most considerable interest amongst the bystanders, whether sympathetic, neutral, or opposite. Of tender age and innocent of opinions on any subject, they were being marshalled by their parents in a demonstration which will probably give a tone to their career hereafter; and seeds in the juvenile mind ever bear fruit in due season. The presence of these shivering little ones gave a serious significance to the procession--they were hostages to the party who had organized the demonstration. Earnestness must indeed have been strong in the mind of the parent who directed his little son or daughter to walk in saturating rain and painful cold through five or six miles of mud and water, and all this merely to say "I and my children were there." It portends something more than sentiment. It is national education with a vengeance. Comment on this remarkable constituent was very frequent throughout the day, and when toward evening this band of boys sang out with lusty unanimity a popular Yankee air, spectators were satisfied of their culture and training. After the children came about one hundred young women who had been unable to gain their proper position, and accepted the place which chance assigned them. They were succeeded by a band dressed very respectably, with crape and green ribbons round their caps. These were followed by a number of rather elderly men, probably the parents of the children far ahead. At this portion of the procession, a mile from the point, they marched four deep, there having been a gradual decline from the front. Next came the bricklayers' band all dressed in green caps, a very superior-looking body of men. Then followed a very imposing well-kept line, composed of young men of the better class, well attired and respectable looking. These wore crape hat-bands, and green rosettes with harps in the centre. Several had broad green body scarfs, with gold tinsel shamrocks and harps intertwined. As this portion of the procession marched they attracted very considerable attention by their orderly, measured tread, and the almost soldierly precision with which they maintained the line. They numbered about four or five thousand, and there were few who were not young, sinewy, stalwart fellows. When they had reached the further end of Abbey-street, the ground about Beresford-place was gradually becoming clear, and the spectator had some opportunity afforded of glancing more closely at the component parts of the great crowd. All round the Custom-house was still packed a dense throng, and large streams were flowing from the northern districts, Clontarf, the Strand, and the quays. The shipping was gaily decorated, and many of the masts were filled with young tars, wearing green bands on their hats. At half-past twelve o'clock, the most interesting portion of the procession left the Custom-house. About two thousand young women, who in attire, demeanour, and general appearance, certainly justified their title to be called ladies walked in six-deep ranks. The general public kept pace with them for a great distance. The green was most demonstrative, every lady having shawl, bonnet, veil, dress, or mantle of the national hue. The mud made sad havoc of their attire, but notwithstanding all mishaps they maintained good order and regularity. They stretched for over half a-mile, and added very notably to the imposing appearance, of the procession. So great was the pressure in Abbey-street, that for a very long time there were no less than three processions walking side-by-side. These halted at the end of the street, and followed as they were afforded opportunity. One of the bands was about to play near the Abbey-street Wesleyan House, but when a policeman told them of the proximity of the place of worship, they immediately desisted. The first was a very long way back in the line, and the foremost men must have been near the Ormond-quays, when the four horses moved into Abbey-street. They were draped with black cloths, and white plumes were at their heads. The hearse also had white plumes, and was covered with black palls. On the side was "William P. Allen." A number of men followed, and then came a band. In the earlier portion of the day there were seen but two hearses, the second one bearing Larkin's name. It was succeeded by four mourning coaches, drawn by two horses each. A large number of young men from the monster houses followed in admirable order. In this throng were very many men of business, large employers, and members of the professions. Several of the trades were in great force. It had been arranged to have the trade banners carried in front of the artisans of every calling, but at the suggestion of the chairman this design was abandoned. The men walked, however, in considerable strength. They marched from their various committee-rooms to the Custom-house. The quay porters were present to the number of 500, and presented a very orderly, cleanly appearance. They were comfortably dressed, and walked close after the hearse bearing Larkin's name. Around this bier were a number of men bearing in their hands long and waving palms--emblems of martyrdom. The trades came next, and were led off by the various branches of the association known as the Amalgamated Trades. The plasterers made about 300, the painters 350, the boot and shoemakers mustered 1,000, the bricklayers 500, the carpenters 300, the slaters 450, the sawyers 200, and the skinners, coopers, tailors, bakers, and the other trades, made a very respectable show, both as to numbers and appearance. Each of these had representatives in the front of the procession, amongst the fine body of men who marched eight deep. The whole ground near the starting place was clear at half-past one, and by that time the demonstration was seen to a greater advantage than previously. All down Abbey-streets, and in fact throughout the procession, the pathways were crowded by persons who were practically of it, though not in it. Very many young girls naturally enough preferred to stand on the pathways rather than to be saturated with mud and water. But it may truly be said that every second man and woman of the crowds in almost every street were of the procession. Cabs filled with ladies and gentlemen remained at the waysides all day watching the march. The horses' heads were gaily decorated with green ribbons, while every Jehu in the city wore a rosette or a crape band. Nothing of special note occurred until the procession turned into Dame-street. The appearance of the demonstration was here far greater than at any other portion of the city. Both sides of the street, and as far as Carlisle-bridge, were lined with cabs and carriages filled with spectators who were prevented by the bitter inclemency of the day from taking an active part in the proceedings. The procession was here grandly imposing, and after Larkin's hearse were no less than nine carriages, and several cabs. It is stated that Mrs. Luby and Miss Mulcahy occupied one of the vehicles, and relatives of others now in confinement were alleged to have been present. One circumstance, which was generally remarked as having great significance, was the presence in one line of ten soldiers of the 86th Regiment. They were dressed in their great overcoats, which they wore open so as to show the scarlet tunic. These men may have been on leave, inasmuch as the great military force were confined to barracks, and kept under arms from six o'clock, a.m. The cavalry were in readiness for action, if necessary. Mounted military and police orderlies were stationed at various points of the city to convey any requisite intelligence to the authorities, and the constabulary at the depot, Phoenix Park, were also prepared, if their services should be required. At the police stations throughout the city large numbers of men were kept all day under arms. It is pleasant to state that no interference was necessary, as the great demonstration terminated without the slightest disturbance. The public houses generally remained closed until five o'clock, and the sobriety of the crowds was the subject of the general comment.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    Along here at Beresford Place, on the eighth of December 1867, crowds began to gather as early as ten o'clock. Within an hour about ten thousand men were present. The morning had succeeded to the hopeless humidity of the night, and drizzling rain fell with almost dispiteous persistence. Early trains from Kingstown and Dalkey and all the surrounding townlands brought large numbers into Dublin. Westland-row, Brunswick, D'Olier, and Sackville streets streamed with masses of humanity. A great number met at Earlsfort-terrace, around the Exhibition, and by twelve o'clock some thousands had collected there, though it was not easy to learn the object of that gathering. Most probably it was a mistake, as they fell in with the great body within half an hour. The space from the quays, including the great sweep in front of the Custom House, was swarming with men, women, and small children. The big ungainly crowd bulged out into Gardiner Street and the broad space leading up Talbot Street. Ranks began to be formed at eleven o'clock amid a downpour of cold rain. The mud was deep and aqueous, and great pools ran through the streets almost level with the paths. Some of the more prominent men and several of the committee rode about directing and organizing the crowd. A couple of thousand young children stood quietly in the rain and slush for over an hour, and behind them, in close-packed numbers, over two thousand young women. Every moment some overwhelming accession rolled down Abbey Street or Eden Quay and swelled the already surging multitude. Cabs struggled hopelessly to deliver ladies who had come to walk. All the windows in Beresford Place were filled with spectators, and the rain and cold seemed to have no saddening effect. At a quarter to twelve the first rank moved forward, twelve deep, almost every man carrying an umbrella, thoroughly saturated with the never-ceasing downpour.

15. Cork city's long record as a stronghold of national feeling

    Cork · city · Cork · 1848–1867

    The text describes Cork city as having held an advanced position in the Irish national struggle for over twenty years, being a stronghold of nationalist organisation since 1848 and a major source of Fenian recruits, especially among the mercantile classes.

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    For more than twenty years Cork city has held an advanced position in the Irish national struggle. In truth, it has been one of the great strongholds of the national cause since 1848. Nowhere else did the national spirit keep its hold so tenaciously and so extensively amidst the people. In 1848 Cork city contained probably the most formidable organization in the country; formidable, not merely in numbers, but in the superior intelligence, earnestness, and determination of the men; and even in the Fenian conspiracy, it is unquestionable that the southern capital contributed to that movement men--chiefly belonging to the mercantile and commercial classes--who, in personal worth and standing, as well as in courage, intelligence, and patriotism, were the flower of the organization. Finally, it must be said, that it was Cork city by its funeral demonstration of the 1st December, that struck the first great blow at the Manchester verdict, and set all Ireland in motion. [Footnote: It may be truly said set the Irish race all over the world in motion. There is probably no parallel in history for the singular circumstance of these funeral processions being held by the dispersed Irish in lands remote, apart, as pole from pole--in the old hemisphere and in the new--in Europe, in America, in Australia; prosecutions being set on foot by the English government to punish them at both ends of the world--in Ireland and in New Zealand! In Hokatika the Irish settlers--most patriotic of Ireland's exiles--organized a highly impressive funeral demonstration. The government seized and prosecuted its leaders, the Rev. Father Larkin, a Catholic clergyman, and Mr. Wm. Manning, editor of the _Hokatika Celt_. A jury, terrified by Fenian panic, brought them in "guilty," and the patriot priest and journalist were consigned to a dungeon for the crime of mourning for the dead and protesting against judicial murder.]

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 1

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Cork, you are in a city that held an advanced position in the Irish national struggle for more than twenty years. Since 1848 it was one of the great strongholds of the national cause, and nowhere else did that spirit keep its hold so tenaciously among the people. In 1848 Cork contained probably the most formidable organization in the country, formidable not merely in numbers but in the intelligence, earnestness, and determination of its men. When the Fenian movement came, the southern capital contributed men, chiefly from the mercantile and commercial classes, who in courage, intelligence, and patriotism were the flower of the organization. On the 1st of December, Cork city struck the first great blow at the Manchester verdict with its funeral demonstration, and set all Ireland in motion. That demonstration set the Irish race in motion across the world, from Europe to America to Australia. In Hokatika, the Rev. Father Larkin and Mr. William Manning, editor of the Hokatika Celt, organized a funeral demonstration of their own. The government seized and prosecuted them both. A jury brought them in guilty, and the priest and journalist were sent to a dungeon for the crime of mourning for the dead and protesting against what was called judicial murder.

16. Crown packs jury at Green-street, excluding Catholics

    Green Street · street · Dublin · 1868

    At the arraignment of Martin, Sullivan, Lalor and Bracken at Green-street, the crown ordered jurors to 'stand by' without cause, and no Catholic was permitted to serve on the jury that was eventually empanelled.

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    The sensation produced by this scene embarrassed the crown officials not a little. It dragged to light the true character of their proceeding. Eventually the following twelve gentlemen were suffered by the crown to pass into the box as a "jury"--[Footnote: Not one Catholic was allowed to pass into the box. Every Catholic who came to the box was ordered to "_Stand by_."]

    SAMUEL EAKINS, Foreman.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Along here at Green Street in 1868, Martin, Sullivan, Lalor and Bracken were arraigned, and the crown packed the jury. When Catholics came forward, crown officials ordered each to "stand by," so that not one Catholic was allowed into the box. The twelve gentlemen empanelled included Samuel Eakins as foreman.

17. Dublin Courtroom Traced to the Medieval 'Pale'

    Dublin · city · Dublin

    Sullivan told the jury that the Dublin court trying him was the direct legal descendant of the first law court of the English Pale, established centuries earlier, when Irish people outside its small boundary were legally classed as 'the king's Irish enemie' and denied access to English law.

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    Mr. Sullivan--My lord, I took down the solicitor-general's words. I quote them accurately as he spoke them, and he cannot get rid of them now. "Glorifiers of the cause of murder" was his designation of my fellow-traversers and myself, and our fifty thousand fellow-mourners in the funeral procession; and before I sit down I will make him rue the utterance. Gentlemen of the jury, if British law be held in "disesteem"--as the crown prosecutors phrase it--here in Ireland, there is an explanation for that fact, other than that supplied by the solicitor-general; namely, the wickedness of seditious persons like myself, and the criminal sympathies of a people ever ready to "glorify the cause of murder." Mournful, most mournful, is the lot of that land where the laws are not respected--nay, revered by the people. No greater curse could befall a country than to have the laws estranged from popular esteem, or in antagonism with the national sentiment. Everything goes wrong under such a state of things. The ivy will cling to the oak, and the tendrils of the vine reach forth towards strong support. But more anxiously and naturally still does the human heart instinctively seek an object of reverence and love, as well as of protection and support, in law, authority, sovereignty. At least, among a virtuous people like ours, there is ever a yearning for those relations which are, and ought to be, as natural between a people and their government as between the children and the parent. I say for myself, and I firmly believe I speak the sentiments of most Irishmen when I say, that so far from experiencing satisfaction, we experience pain in our present relations with the law and governing power; and we long for the day when happier relations may be restored between the laws and the national sentiment in Ireland. We Irish are no race of assassins or "glorifiers of murder." From the most remote ages, in all centuries, it has been told of our people that they were pre-eminently a justice-loving people. Two hundred and fifty years ago the predecessor of the solicitor-general--an English attorney-general--it may be necessary to tell the learned gentleman that his name was Sir John Davis (for historical as well as geographical knowledge[B] seems to be rather scarce amongst the present law officers of the crown), (laughter)--held a very different opinion of them from that put forth to-day by the solicitor-general. Sir John Davis said no people in the world loved equal justice more than the Irish even where the decision was against themselves. That character the Irish have ever borne and bear still. But if you want the explanation of this "disesteem" and hostility for British law, you must trace effect to cause. It will not do to stand by the river side near where it flows into the sea, and wonder why the water continues to run by. Not I--not my fellow-traversers--not my fellow-countrymen--are accountable for the antagonism between law and popular sentiment in this country. Take up the sad story where you will--yesterday, last month, last year, last century--two centuries ago, three centuries, five centuries, six centuries--and what will you find? English law presenting itself to the Irish people in a guise forbidding sympathy or respect, and evoking fear and resentment. Take it at its birth in this country. Shake your minds free of legal theories and legal fictions, and deal with facts. This court where I now stand is the legal and political heir, descendant, and representative of the first law court of the Pale six or seven centuries ago. Within that Pale were a few thousand English settlers, and of them alone did the law take cognizance. The Irish nation--the millions outside the Pale--were known only as "the king's Irish enemie." The law classed them with the wild beasts of nature whom it was lawful to slay. Later on in our history we find the Irish near the Pale sometimes asking to be admitted to the benefits of English law, since they were forbidden to have any of their own; but their petitions were refused. Gentlemen, this was English law as it stood towards the Irish people for centuries; and wonder, if you will, that the Irish people held it in "disesteem:--[Footnote B: On Mr. Sullivan's first trial the solicitor-general, until stopped and corrected by the court, was suggesting to the jury that there was no such place as Knockrochery, and that a Fenian proclamation which had been published in the _Weekly News_ as having been posted at that place, was, in fact, composed in Mr. Sullivan's Office. Mr. Justice Deasy, however, pointedly corrected and reproved this blunder on the part of Mr. Harrison.]

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Dublin, you are moving through a city where a courtroom once heard a man named Sullivan tell a jury that the very court trying him was the legal and political heir of the first law court of the English Pale, six or seven centuries ago. Sullivan was on trial with his fellow-traversers, accused over a funeral procession that drew fifty thousand mourners. The solicitor-general had called them glorifiers of the cause of murder. Sullivan stood and said he would make him rue those words. He told the jury that if British law was held in disesteem in Ireland, there was a reason rooted deep in history. Two hundred and fifty years before, an English attorney-general named Sir John Davis had said no people in the world loved equal justice more than the Irish, even when the decision went against them. Sullivan said the Irish had always borne that character. But to understand the hostility toward British law, he said, you must trace effect to cause. He asked the jury to deal with facts, not legal fictions. Within the Pale sat a few thousand English settlers, and the law took cognizance of them alone. The millions outside were known only as the king's Irish enemie. The law classed them with the wild beasts of nature, whom it was lawful to slay. Later, Irish people near the Pale asked to be admitted to the benefits of English law, since they were forbidden any of their own. Their petitions were refused. This, Sullivan said, was English law as it stood toward the Irish people for centuries.

18. John Martin admits speech and defends right to free trial

    near Exchange Court · street · Dublin · 1867

    John Martin, on trial for his part in the funeral procession, openly admitted attending and speaking at the demonstration, and argued that no genuinely free jury trial existed in Ireland at the time.

    Read the passage

    I admit I attended the procession. I admit also that I spoke words which I consider very grave and serious words upon that occasion. For my acts on that occasion, for the sense and intention of the words I spoke on that occasion, I am perfectly willing to be put upon my country. Not only for all my acts on that occasion--not only for the words which I spoke on that occasion; but for all my acts or all the words I either spoke or wrote, publicly or privately, upon Irish politics, I am perfectly willing to be put upon my country. In any free country that has real constitutional institutions to guarantee the liberty of the subject--to guarantee the free trial of the subject charged with an offence against either the state or his neighbour, it would be quite absurd to expect a man could be put upon his country and convicted of a crime for doing that and using such words as the vast majority of his fellow-countrymen approve. In this case I believe that a vast majority of my fellow-countrymen do not disapprove of the acts I acknowledge on that occasion, and that they sympathise in the sentiment of the words I then spoke. Therefore the mere fact that a prosecution is preferred against me for that act, and for those words, is the expression of an opinion on my part that this country does not at present enjoy real constitutional institutions, guaranteeing a free trial--guaranteeing that the man accused shall be really put upon his country. Therefore it is absurd to think that any twelve honest men, my neighbours, put upon their oaths, would declare that to be a crime which it is probable that, at least, four-fifths of them believe to be right--right both constitutionally and morally. I am aware--we are all aware--that the gentlemen who represent the crown in this country, have very powerful means at their disposal for obtaining convictions in the form of law and in the form of justice, of any person they think proper to accuse; and without meaning either to sneer or to joke in this matter, I acknowledge the moderation of the gentlemen who represent the government, since they chose to trouble themselves with me at all. I acknowledge their moderation in proposing to indict me now for sedition, for the language which they say I used, because it is possible for them, with the means at their disposal, to have me convicted for murder, or burglary, or bigamy (laughter). I am sorry to say what seems like a sneer, but I use the words in deep and solemn seriousness, and I say no more than I am perfectly ready to be tried fairly or foully (applause in court).

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about Exchange Court, in 1867, John Martin stood trial for his part in the funeral procession. He did not deny anything. He told the court he admitted attending the procession, and he admitted speaking words he considered grave and serious on that occasion. He said he was perfectly willing to be put upon his country, not only for what he did and said that day, but for every act and every word he had ever spoken or written, publicly or privately, on Irish politics. Then he made his argument. In any free country with real constitutional institutions, institutions that guarantee the liberty of the subject and a free trial, it would be absurd for a man to be convicted of a crime for doing what the vast majority of his fellow-countrymen approve. He believed that a vast majority of his fellow-countrymen did not disapprove of the acts he acknowledged, and that they sympathised with the sentiment of the words he spoke. The very fact of his prosecution, he said, was evidence that this country did not at present enjoy real constitutional institutions guaranteeing a free trial. He said it was absurd to think that twelve honest men, his neighbours, put on their oaths, would declare that to be a crime which at least four-fifths of them believed to be right, both constitutionally and morally. He acknowledged that the gentlemen who represented the crown had powerful means at their disposal for obtaining convictions, and he acknowledged their moderation in indicting him for sedition, because, he said, it was possible for them, with the means at their disposal, to have him convicted for murder, or burglary, or bigamy. There was laughter in court. He said he used the words in deep and solemn seriousness, and said no more than he was ready to be tried fairly or foully. There was applause in court.

19. Sullivan protests being summoned as crown witness

    near Exchange Court · street · Dublin · 1867

    At the Dublin police-court, editor A.M. Sullivan denounced his being summoned as a crown witness against fellow processionists as a personal and public outrage, calling the government's conduct base and cowardly. He declared no Irish jury would convict him.

    Read the passage

    The scenes of yesterday in the Dublin police-court will cause an astonished public to put the question, is the government insane? They suppress the processions one day, and on the next proceed with deliberation to destroy all possible effect from such an act by inviting the magistrates' court to be used as a platform from whence a fresh roar of defiance may be uttered. The originators of the seditious demonstrations are charged with having brought the government of the kingdom into hatred and contempt; but what step taken, or word spoken or written, from the date of the first procession to the last, brought the government into anything like the "contempt" into which it plunged itself yesterday? The prosecutions now instituted are in themselves an act of utter weakness. We so declared when we imagined that they would be at least rationally conducted; but what is to be said now? It is literally impossible to give any sane explanation of the course taken in summoning as a crown witness one who must have been known to be prepared to boast of his participation in the procession. Mr. Sullivan boldly bearded the prosecutors of his brethren. It was a splendid opportunity for him. "I was present (he said) at that funeral procession. I participated in it, deliberately and heartily. I call this a personal and public outrage, to endeavour to drag the national press of this country--". Timid and ineffectual attempts were made by the magistrate to protect his court and position from insult, but Mr. Sullivan had the field, and would hold it. "He might help the crown to put some one else up," he said, "as they are scarce, perhaps, in accused." The summoning of him was, he resumed, an "attempt to destroy the national press, whose power the crown feels and fears, but which they dare not prosecute." Mr. Sullivan was suffered to describe the conduct of the crown prosecutors at another stage as an "infamous plot." The government desired "to accomplish his imprisonment; they were willing to wound but afraid to strike." "They knew (he added) that they would not get a jury in all Ireland to agree to convict me; and I now characterise the conduct of the crown as base and cowardly." Another witness, in a halting way, entered a like protest against being supposed to have sympathy with the crown in the case; and the net result was a very remarkable triumph for what Mr. Sullivan calls the "national press"--a title wholly misapplied and grossly abused. Are we to have a succession of these "scenes in court?"

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about Exchange Court, in 1867, the Dublin police-court saw a scene that left observers asking whether the government had lost its senses. The government had suppressed the processions, then handed the magistrates' court over as a platform from which fresh defiance could be roared. The men charged were accused of bringing the government into hatred and contempt. But nothing said or written from the first procession to the last brought the government into anything like the contempt it plunged itself into that day. The crown summoned as a witness a man it must have known would boast of his part in the procession. A.M. Sullivan, editor, bearded the prosecutors of his brethren. He told the court he had been present at the funeral procession and had participated in it deliberately and heartily. He called it a personal and public outrage to drag the national press of this country into it. The magistrate made timid attempts to protect his court from insult, but Sullivan held the field. He said the crown might put someone else up, as they were perhaps scarce in the accused. The summoning of him was, he said, an attempt to destroy the national press, whose power the crown felt and feared but dared not prosecute. He called the conduct of the crown prosecutors an infamous plot. The government desired his imprisonment. They were willing to wound but afraid to strike. He said they knew they would not get a jury in all Ireland to agree to convict him, and he characterised the conduct of the crown as base and cowardly. Another witness entered a like protest against being thought to sympathise with the crown. The net result was a remarkable triumph for what Sullivan called the national press.

20. Crown shifts venue from city to county jury

    Green Street · street · Dublin · 1868

    The crown controversially moved the indictments from the city jury venue to the county grand jury at Green-street, intending to secure a jury more likely to convict, a manoeuvre likened to the illegal precedent set in the 1848 case of Gavan Duffy.

    Read the passage

    On Monday, 10th February, 1868, the commission was opened in Green-street, Dublin, before Mr. Justice Fitzgerald and Baron Deasy. Soon a cunning and unworthy legal trick on the part of the crown was revealed. The prosecuted processionists and journalists had been indicted in the _city_ venue, had been returned for trial to the _city_ commission by a _city_ jury. But the government at the last moment mistrusted a city jury in this instance--even a _packed_ city jury--and without any notice to the traversers, sent the indictments before the _county_ grand jury, so that they might be tried by a jury picked and packed from the anti-Irish oligarchy of the Pale. It was an act of gross illegality, hardship, and oppression. The illegality of such a course had been ruled and decided in the case of Mr. Gavan Duffy in 1848. But the point was raised vainly now. When Mr. Pigott, of the _Irishman_, was called to plead, his counsel (Mr. Heron, Q.C.) insisted that he, the traverser, was now in custody of the _city_ sheriff in accordance with his recognizances, and could not without legal process be removed to the county venue. An exciting encounter ensued between Mr. Heron and the crown counsel, and the court took till next day to decide the point. Next morning it was decided in favour of the crown, and Mr. Pigott was about being arraigned, when, in order that he might not be prejudiced by having attended pending the decision, the attorney-general said, "he would shut his eyes to the fact that that gentleman was now in court," and would have him called immediately--an intimation that Mr. Pigott might, if advised, try the course of refusing to appear. He did so refuse. When next called, Mr. Pigott was not forthcoming, and on the police proceeding to his office and residence that gentleman was not to be found--having, as the attorney-general spitefully expressed it, "fled from justice." Mr. Sullivan's case, had, of necessity, then to be called; and this was exactly what the crown had desired to avoid, and what Mr. Heron had aimed to secure. It was the secret of all the skirmishing. A very general impression prevailed that the crown would fail in getting a jury to convict Mr. Sullivan on any indictment tinctured even ever so faintly with "Fenianism;" and it was deemed of great importance to Mr. Pigott's case to force the crown to begin with the one in which failure was expected--Mr. Sullivan having intimated his perfect willingness to be either pushed to the front or kept to the last, according as might best promise to secure the discomfiture of the government. Mr. Heron had therefore so far out-manoeuvered the crown. Mr. Sullivan appeared in court and announced himself ready for trial, and the next morning was fixed for his arraignment. Up to this moment, that gentleman had expressed his determination not only to discard legal points, but to decline ordinary professional defence, and to address the jury in his own behalf. Now, however, deferring to considerations strongly pressed on him (set forth in his speech to the jury in the funeral procession case), he relinquished this resolution; and, late on the night preceding his trial, entrusted to Mr. Heron, Q.C., Mr. Crean, and Mr. Molloy, his defence on this first prosecution.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Along here on Green Street, in February 1868, the Crown pulled a cunning legal trick. The prosecuted processionists and journalists had been indicted in the city venue and returned for trial by a city jury. But the government mistrusted even a packed city jury, and without notice to the accused, sent the indictments before the county grand jury, hoping for jurors drawn from what the source calls the anti-Irish oligarchy of the Pale. The illegality of such a move had already been ruled in the case of Gavan Duffy in 1848, but the objection was raised in vain. When Pigott of the Irishman was called to plead, his counsel Heron argued he was in the custody of the city sheriff and could not be removed to the county venue without legal process. The court took a day to decide, then ruled for the Crown. Pigott was advised to refuse to appear, and when called again he was not to be found. The attorney-general said he had fled from justice. This was exactly what the Crown had wished to avoid, and what Heron had aimed to secure, because Sullivan's case now had to be called first. It was widely believed the Crown would fail to get a jury to convict Sullivan on any indictment touched with Fenianism, and Sullivan had agreed to go first if it best served the defence. He appeared and announced himself ready for trial. He had intended to address the jury himself with no professional defence, but late the night before he entrusted his case to Heron, Crean, and Molloy.

21. Dublin drapers sell out crape and green ribbon before the procession

    Dublin · city · Dublin · 1867

    In the days before the 8 December 1867 procession, Dublin's drapery shops displayed windows full of crape and green ribbon, funeral badges and scarves, with nearly one hundred thousand yards of ribbon sold by midnight Saturday.

    Read the passage

    The appearance of the "funeral procession placards" all over the city on Thursday, 5th December, increased the public excitement. No other topic was discussed in any place of public resort, but the event forthcoming on Sunday. The first evidence of what it was about to be, was the appearance of the drapery establishments in the city on Saturday morning; the windows, exteriorly and interiorly, being one mass of crape and green ribbon--funeral knots, badges, scarfs, hat-bands, neckties, &c., exposed for sale. Before noon most of the retail, and several of the wholesale houses had their entire stock of green ribbon and crape exhausted, it being computed that _nearly one hundred thousand yards_ had been sold up to midnight of Saturday! Meantime the committee sat _en permanance_, zealously pushing their arrangements for the orderly and successful carrying out of their great undertaking--appointing stewards, marshals, &c.--in a word, completing the numerous details on the perfection of which it greatly depended whether Sunday was to witness a successful demonstration or a scene of disastrous disorder. On this, as upon every occasion when a national demonstration was to be organized, the trades of Dublin, Kingstown, and Dalkey, exhibited that spirit of patriotism for which they have been proverbial in our generation. From their ranks came the most efficient aids in every department of the preparations. On Saturday evening the carpenters, in a body, immediately after their day's work was over, instead of seeking home and rest, refreshment or recreation after their week of toil, turned into the _Nation_ office machine rooms, which they quickly improvised into a vast workshop, and there, as volunteers, laboured away till near midnight, manufacturing "wands" for the stewards of next morning's procession.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    Dublin in December 1867. On Thursday the fifth, funeral procession placards appeared all over the city, and public excitement grew. No other topic was discussed in any place of public resort but the event forthcoming on Sunday. The first real evidence of what was coming showed on Saturday morning, in the drapery establishments. Their windows, inside and out, became one mass of crape and green ribbon: funeral knots, badges, scarves, hatbands, neckties, all exposed for sale. Before noon, most of the retail shops and several of the wholesale houses had sold their entire stock of green ribbon and crape. It was computed that nearly one hundred thousand yards had been sold by midnight Saturday. The committee sat in permanent session, pushing arrangements for an orderly and successful demonstration, appointing stewards and marshals, completing the numerous details on which it depended whether Sunday would witness a successful demonstration or a scene of disastrous disorder. The trades of Dublin, Kingstown, and Dalkey showed that spirit of patriotism for which they have been proverbial. From their ranks came the most efficient aids in every department of the preparations. On Saturday evening, the carpenters, as a body, after their day's work was done, turned into the Nation office machine rooms instead of going home. They improvised the space into a vast workshop and laboured as volunteers until near midnight, manufacturing wands for the stewards of next morning's procession.

22. Vision of a restored Irish parliament at College Green

    near College Green · street · Dublin

    Sullivan declares his loyalty to a future free Irish parliament, to be reconstituted in the national senate-house at College Green in Dublin. He envisions this as the moment when law and popular feeling will be reconciled.

    Read the passage

    Mr. Sullivan--I am sorry, my lord, for the interruption; though not sorry the people should endorse my estimate of the police. Well, gentlemen, the van was abandoned by its valiant guard; but there remained inside one brave and faithful fellow, Brett by name. I am now giving you the facts as I in my conscience and soul believe they occurred--and as millions of my countrymen--aye, and thousands of Englishmen, too--solemnly believe them to have occurred, though they differ in one item widely from the crown version. Brett refused to give up the key of the van, which he held; and the attacking party commenced various endeavours to break it open. At length one of them called out to fire a pistol into the lock, and thus burst it open. The unfortunate Brett at that moment was looking through the keyhole, endeavouring to get a view of the inexplicable scene outside, when he received the bullet and fell dead. Gentlemen, that may be the true, or it may be the mistaken version. You may hold to the other, or you may hold to this. But whether I be mistaken therein, or otherwise, I say here, as I would say if I stood now before my Eternal Judge on the Last Day, I solemnly believe the mournful episode to have happened thus--I solemnly believe that the man Brett was shot by accident, and not by design. But even suppose your view differs sincerely from mine, will you, can you, hold that I, thus conscientiously persuaded, sympathise with murder, because I sympathise with men hanged for that which I contend was accident, and not murder? That is exactly the issue in this case. Well, the rescued Fenian leaders got away; and then, when all was over--when the danger was passed--valour tremendous returned to the fleet of foot Manchester police. Oh, but they wreaked their vengeance that night on the houses of the poor Irish in Manchester! By a savage razzia they soon filled the jails with our poor countrymen seized on suspicion. And then broke forth all over England that shout of anger and passion which none of us will ever forget. The national pride had been sorely wounded; the national power had been openly and humiliatingly defied; the national fury was aroused. On all sides resounded the hoarse shout for vengeance, swift and strong. Then was seen a sight the most shameful of its kind that this century has exhibited--a sight at thought of which Englishmen yet will hang their heads for shame, and which the English historian will chronicle with reddened check--those poor and humble Irish youths led into the Manchester dock in chains! In chains! Yes; iron fetters festering wrist and ankle! Oh, gentlemen, it was a fearful sight; for no one can pretend that in the heart of powerful England there could be danger those poor Irish youths would overcome the authorities and capture Manchester. For what, then, were those chains put on untried prisoners? Gentlemen, it was at this point exactly that Irish sympathy came to the side of those prisoners. It was when we saw them thus used, and saw that, innocent or guilty, they would be immolated--sacrificed to glut the passion of the hour--that our feelings rose high and strong in their behalf. Even in England there were men--noble-hearted Englishmen, for England is never without such men--who saw that if tried in the midst of this national frenzy, those victims would be sacrificed; and accordingly efforts were made for a postponement of the trial. But the roar of passion carried its way. Not even till the ordinary assizes would the trial be postponed. A special commission was sped to do the work while Manchester jurors were in a white heat of panic, indignation, and fury. Then came the trial, which was just what might be expected. Witnesses swore ahead without compunction, and jurors believed them without hesitation. Five men arraigned together as principals--Allen, Larkin, O'Brien, Shore, and Maguire--were found guilty, and the judge concerning in the verdict, were sentenced to death. Five men--not three men, gentlemen--five men in the one verdict, not five separate verdicts. Five men by the same evidence and the same jury in the same verdict. Was that a just verdict? The case of the crown here to-day is that it was--that it is "sedition" to impeach that verdict. A copy of that conviction is handed in here as evidence to convict me of sedition for charging as I do that that was a wrong verdict, a bad verdict, a rotten and a false verdict. But what is the fact? That her Majesty's ministers themselves admit and proclaim that it was a wrong verdict, a false verdict. The very evening those men were sentenced, thirty newspaper reporters sent up to the Home Secretary a petition protesting that--the evidence of the witnesses and the verdict of the jury notwithstanding--there was at least one innocent man thus marked for execution. The government felt that the reporters were right and the jurors wrong. They pardoned Maguire as an innocent man--that same Maguire whose legal conviction is here put in as evidence that he and four others were truly murderers, to sympathise with whom is to commit sedition--nay, "to glorify the cause of murder." Well, after that, our minds were easy. We considered it out of the question any man would be hanged on a verdict thus ruined, blasted, and abandoned; and believing those men innocent of murder, though guilty of another most serious legal crime--rescue with violence, and incidental, though not intentional loss of life--we rejoiced that a terrible mistake was, as we thought, averted. But now arose in redoubled fury the savage cry for blood. In vain good men, noble and humane men, in England tried to save the national honour by breasting this horrible outburst of passion. They were overborne. Petitioners for mercy were mobbed and hooted in the streets. We saw all this--we saw all this; and think you it did not sink into our hearts? Fancy if you can our feelings when we heard that yet another man out of five was respited--ah, he was an American, gentlemen--an American, not an Irishman--but that the three Irishmen, Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien, were to die--were to be put to death on a verdict and on evidence that would not hang a dog in England! We refused to the last to credit it; and thus incredulous, deemed it idle to make any effort to save their lives. But it was true; it was deadly true. And then, gentlemen, the doomed three appeared in a new character. Then they rose into the dignity and heroism of martyrs. The manner in which they bore themselves through the dreadful ordeal ennobled them for ever It was then we all learned to love and revere them as patriots and Christians. Oh, gentlemen, it is only at this point I feel my difficulty in addressing you whose religious faith is not that which is mine. For it is only Catholics who can understand the emotions aroused in Catholic hearts by conduct such as theirs in that dreadful hour. Catholics alone can understand how the last solemn declarations of such men, after receiving the last sacraments of the Church, and about to meet their Great Judge face to face, can outweigh the reckless evidence of Manchester thieves and pickpockets. Yes; in that hour they told us they were innocent, but were ready to die; and we believed them. We believe them still. Aye, do we! They did not go to meet their God with a falsehood on their lips. On that night before their execution, oh, what a scene! What a picture did England present at the foot of the Manchester scaffold! The brutal populace thronged thither in tens of thousands. They danced; they sang; they blasphemed; they chorused "Rule Britannia," and "God save the Queen," by way of taunt and defiance of the men whose death agonies they had come to see! Their shouts and brutal cries disturbed the doomed victims inside the prison as in their cells they prepared in prayer and meditation to meet their Creator and their God. Twice the police had to remove the crowd from around that wing of the prison; so that our poor brothers might in peace go through their last preparations for eternity, undisturbed by the yells of the multitude outside. Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen--that scene! That scene in the grey cold morning when those innocent men were led out to die--to die an ignominious death before that wolfish mob! With blood on fire--with bursting hearts--we read the dreadful story here in Ireland. We knew that these men would never have been thus sacrificed had not their offence been political, and had it not been that in their own way they represented the old struggle of the Irish race. We felt that if time had but been permitted for English passion to cool down, English good feeling and right justice would have prevailed; and they never would have been put to death on such a verdict. All this we felt, yet we were silent till we heard the press that had hounded those men to death falsely declaring that our silence was acquiescence in the deed that consigned them to murderers' graves. Of this I have personal knowledge, that, here in Dublin at least, nothing was done or intended, until the _Evening Mail_ declared that popular feeling which had had ample time to declare itself, if it felt otherwise, quite recognised the justice of the execution. Then we resolved to make answer. Then Ireland made answer. For what monarch, the loftiest in the world, would such demonstrations be made, the voluntary offerings of a people's grief! Think you it was "sympathy for murder" called us forth, or caused the priests of the Catholic Church to drape their churches? It is a libel to utter the base charge. No, no. With the acts of those men at that rescue we had nought to say. Of their innocence of murder we were convinced. Their patriotic feelings, their religious devotion, we saw proved in the noble, the edifying manner of their death. We believed them to have been unjustly sacrificed in a moment of national passion; and we resolved to rescue their memory from the foul stains of their maligners, and make it a proud one for ever with Irishmen. Sympathy with murder, indeed! What I am about to say will be believed; for I think I have shown no fear of consequences in standing by my acts and principles--I say for myself, and for the priests and people of Ireland, who are affected by this case, that sooner would we burn our right hands to cinders than express, directly or indirectly, sympathy with murder; and that our sympathy for Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien is based upon the conviction that they were innocent of any such crime. Gentlemen, having regard to all the circumstances of this sad business, having regard to the feelings under which we acted, think you is it a true charge that we had for our intent and object the bringing of the administration of justice into contempt? Does a man, by protesting, ever so vehemently, against an act of a not infallible tribunal, incur the charge of attempting its overthrow? What evidence can be shown to you that we uttered a word against the general character of the administration of justice in this country, while denouncing this particular proceeding, which we say was a fearful failure of justice--a horrible blunder, a terrible act of passion! None--none. I say, for myself, I sincerely believe that in this country of ours justice is administered by the judges of the Irish Bench with a purity and impartiality between man and man not to be surpassed in the universal world. Let me not be thought to cast reflection on this court, or the learned judges before whom I now stand, if I except in a certain sense, and on some occasions, political trials between the subject and the crown. Apart from this, I fearlessly say the bench of justice in Ireland fully enjoys and is worthy of respect and homage. I care not from what political party its members be drawn, I say that, with hardly an exception, when robed with the ermine, they become dead to the world of politics, and sink the politician in the loftier character of representative of Sacred Justice. Yet, gentlemen, holding those views, I would, nevertheless, protest against and denounce such a trial as that in Manchester, if it had taken place here in Ireland. For, what we contend is that the men in Manchester would never have been found guilty on such evidence, would never have been executed on such a verdict, if time had been given to let panic and passion pass away--time to let English good sense and calm reason and, sense of justice have sway. Now, gentlemen, judge ye me on this whole case; for I have done. I have spoken at great length, but I plead not merely my own cause but the cause of my country. For myself I care little. I stand before you here with the manacles, I might say, on my hands. Already a prison cell awaits me in Kilmainham. My doom, in any event, is sealed. Already a conviction has been obtained against me for my opinions on this same event; for it is not one arrow alone that has been shot from the crown office quiver at me--at my reputation, my property, my liberty. In a few hours more my voice will be silenced; but before the world is shut out from me for a term, I appeal to your verdict--to the verdict of my fellow-citizens--of my fellow-countrymen--to judge my life, my conduct, my acts, my principles and say am I a criminal. Sedition, in a rightly ordered community, is indeed a crime. But who is it that challenges me? Who is it that demands my loyalty? Who is it that calls out to me, "Oh, ingrate son, where is the filial affection, the respect, the obedience, the support, that is my due? Unnatural, seditious, and rebellious child, a dungeon shall punish your crime!" I look in the face of my accuser, who thus holds me to the duty of a son. I turn to see if there I can recognise the features of that mother, whom indeed I love, my own dear Ireland. I look into that accusing face, and there I see a scowl, and not a smile. I miss the soft, fond voice, the tender clasp, the loving word. I look upon the hands reached out to grasp me--to punish me; and lo, great stains, blood red, upon those hands; and my sad heart tells me it is the blood of my widowed mother, Ireland. Then I answer to my accuser--"You have no claim on me--on my love, my duty, my allegiance. You are not my mother. You sit indeed in the place where she should reign. You wear the regal garments torn from her limbs, while she now sits in the dust, uncrowned and overthrown, and bleeding, from many a wound. But my heart is with her still. Her claim alone is recognised by me. She still commands my love, my duty, my allegiance; and whatever the penalty may be, be it prison chains, be it exile or death, to her I will be true" (applause). But, gentlemen of the jury, what is that Irish nation to which my allegiance turns? Do I thereby mean a party, or a class, or creed? Do I mean only those who think and feel as I do on public questions? Oh, no. It is the whole people of this land--the nobles, the peasants, the clergy the merchants, the gentry, the traders, the professions--the Catholic, the Protestant, the Dissenter. Yes. I am loyal to all that a good and patriotic citizen should be loyal to; I am ready, not merely to obey, but to support with heartfelt allegiance, the constitution of my own country--the Queen as Queen of Ireland, and the free parliament of Ireland once more reconstituted in our national senate-house in College--green. And reconstituted once more it will be. In that hour the laws will again be reconciled with national feeling and popular reverence. In that hour there will be no more disesteem, or hatred, or contempt for the laws: for, howsoever a people may dislike and resent laws imposed upon them against their will by a subjugating power, no nation disesteems the laws of its own making. That day, that blessed day, of peace and reconciliation, and joy, and liberty, I hope to see. And when it comes, as come it will, in that hour it will be remembered for me that I stood here to face the trying ordeal, ready to suffer for my country--walking with bared feet over red hot ploughshares like the victims of old. Yes; in that day it will be remembered for me, though a prison awaits me now, that I was one of those journalists of the people who, through constant sacrifice and self-immolation, fought the battle of the people, and won every vestige of liberty remaining in the land. (As Mr. Sullivan resumed his seat, the entire audience burst into applause, again and again renewed, despite all efforts at repression.)

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about College Green, Sullivan imagined a free Irish parliament sitting again in the old national senate-house. He was standing trial, with a prison cell already waiting for him in Kilmainham, when he spoke these words. He declared his loyalty not to a party or a creed but to the whole people of Ireland, Catholic, Protestant, and Dissenter alike, and to the Queen as Queen of Ireland. He said he was ready to support the free parliament of Ireland once more reconstituted, in his words, in our national senate-house in College Green. And reconstituted once more it will be, he told the court. In that hour, he said, the laws would again be reconciled with national feeling and popular reverence, and no nation disesteems the laws of its own making. He called it a blessed day of peace, reconciliation, joy, and liberty, and said he hoped to see it. When he finished, the audience burst into applause again and again.

23. Dublin funeral committee organises a metropolitan demonstration

    Dublin · city · Dublin · 1867

    Following assurances from Lord Derby and Lord Mayo that the funeral processions were not illegal, a committee was formed early in December 1867 to organise a demonstration in Dublin intended to surpass all previous displays.

    Read the passage

    Meanwhile the Irish capital had moved, and was organizing a demonstration destined to surpass all that had yet been witnessed. Early in the second week of December, a committee was formed for the purpose of organizing a funeral procession in Dublin, worthy of the national metropolis. Dublin would have come forward sooner, but the question of the _legality_ of the processions that were announced to come off the previous week in Cork and other places, had been the subject of fierce discussion in the government press; and the national leaders were determined to avoid the slightest infringement of the law or the least inroad on the public peace. It was only when, on the 3rd of December, Lord Derby, the Prime Minister, replying in the House of Lords to Lord Dufferin, declared the opinion of the crown that the projected processions were not illegal, that the national party in Dublin decided to form a committee and organize a procession. The following were Lord Derby's words:--

    "He could assure the noble lord that the government would continue to carry out the law with firmness and impartiality. The Party Processions Act, however, did not meet the case of the funeral processions, the parties engaged in them having, by not displaying banners or other emblems, kept within the law as far as his information went."

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 1

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Dublin, you are travelling the streets where, in December 1867, a funeral committee was formed to organise a procession meant to surpass anything seen before. The national leaders in Dublin had held back, waiting for clarity on whether funeral processions were legal, as the government press had argued fiercely over it. On the 3rd of December, Lord Derby, the Prime Minister, told the House of Lords that the Party Processions Act did not meet the case of funeral processions, provided those taking part did not display banners or emblems. With that assurance, Dublin's national party formed a committee and set about organising a demonstration worthy of the capital. Lord Derby said the government would carry out the law with firmness and impartiality, but that the parties engaged in funeral processions had, by not displaying banners or other emblems, kept within the law as far as his information went.

24. Pigott flees rather than face county jury

    Green Street · street · Dublin · 1868

    Richard Pigott of the Irishman, facing arraignment before the county jury at Green-street, refused to appear and could not be found at his office or residence, prompting the attorney-general to declare he had fled from justice.

    Read the passage

    On Monday, 10th February, 1868, the commission was opened in Green-street, Dublin, before Mr. Justice Fitzgerald and Baron Deasy. Soon a cunning and unworthy legal trick on the part of the crown was revealed. The prosecuted processionists and journalists had been indicted in the _city_ venue, had been returned for trial to the _city_ commission by a _city_ jury. But the government at the last moment mistrusted a city jury in this instance--even a _packed_ city jury--and without any notice to the traversers, sent the indictments before the _county_ grand jury, so that they might be tried by a jury picked and packed from the anti-Irish oligarchy of the Pale. It was an act of gross illegality, hardship, and oppression. The illegality of such a course had been ruled and decided in the case of Mr. Gavan Duffy in 1848. But the point was raised vainly now. When Mr. Pigott, of the _Irishman_, was called to plead, his counsel (Mr. Heron, Q.C.) insisted that he, the traverser, was now in custody of the _city_ sheriff in accordance with his recognizances, and could not without legal process be removed to the county venue. An exciting encounter ensued between Mr. Heron and the crown counsel, and the court took till next day to decide the point. Next morning it was decided in favour of the crown, and Mr. Pigott was about being arraigned, when, in order that he might not be prejudiced by having attended pending the decision, the attorney-general said, "he would shut his eyes to the fact that that gentleman was now in court," and would have him called immediately--an intimation that Mr. Pigott might, if advised, try the course of refusing to appear. He did so refuse. When next called, Mr. Pigott was not forthcoming, and on the police proceeding to his office and residence that gentleman was not to be found--having, as the attorney-general spitefully expressed it, "fled from justice." Mr. Sullivan's case, had, of necessity, then to be called; and this was exactly what the crown had desired to avoid, and what Mr. Heron had aimed to secure. It was the secret of all the skirmishing. A very general impression prevailed that the crown would fail in getting a jury to convict Mr. Sullivan on any indictment tinctured even ever so faintly with "Fenianism;" and it was deemed of great importance to Mr. Pigott's case to force the crown to begin with the one in which failure was expected--Mr. Sullivan having intimated his perfect willingness to be either pushed to the front or kept to the last, according as might best promise to secure the discomfiture of the government. Mr. Heron had therefore so far out-manoeuvered the crown. Mr. Sullivan appeared in court and announced himself ready for trial, and the next morning was fixed for his arraignment. Up to this moment, that gentleman had expressed his determination not only to discard legal points, but to decline ordinary professional defence, and to address the jury in his own behalf. Now, however, deferring to considerations strongly pressed on him (set forth in his speech to the jury in the funeral procession case), he relinquished this resolution; and, late on the night preceding his trial, entrusted to Mr. Heron, Q.C., Mr. Crean, and Mr. Molloy, his defence on this first prosecution.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Along here on Green Street, in February 1868, the crown pulled a trick on the prosecuted journalists and processionists. They had been indicted in the city venue and returned for trial by a city jury, but the government mistrusted even a packed city jury, and without notice sent the indictments before the county grand jury, so the accused would be tried by a jury picked from the anti-Irish oligarchy of the Pale. The illegality of this had been ruled in 1848 in the case of Gavan Duffy, but the point was raised vainly now. When Richard Pigott of the Irishman was called to plead, his counsel Mr. Heron argued that Pigott was in the custody of the city sheriff and could not be moved to the county venue. The court took a day to decide, then ruled for the crown. The attorney-general said he would shut his eyes to the fact that Pigott was in court, an intimation that Pigott might refuse to appear. He did. When called again he was not forthcoming, and the police could not find him at his office or residence. The attorney-general declared he had, as he put it, fled from justice. The whole manoeuvre was part of a strategy by Pigott's counsel to force the crown to try Mr. Sullivan first, since it was widely believed the crown would fail to convict Sullivan on any indictment touched with Fenianism. Sullivan appeared and announced himself ready, and the next morning was fixed for his arraignment.

25. Reverential silence as procession passes the O'Connell statue

    Parliament Street · street · Dublin · 1867

    As the procession passed the O'Connell statue in Parliament Street, cheering that began was suppressed by the leaders to preserve mournful silence, and thousands uncovered their heads in reverence to the Liberator's memory.

    Read the passage

    Standing at the corner of Christchurch-place, a fine view could be had of the procession as it approached Winetavern-street from High-street. The compact mass moved on at a regular pace, while from the windows on either side of the streets the well-dressed citizens, who preferred to witness the demonstration from an elevated position rather than undergo the fatigues and unpleasantness of a walk through the city in such weather, eagerly watched the approach of the procession. Under the guidance of the horsemen and those whose wands showed it was their duty to marshal the immense throng, the procession moved at an orderly pace down Winetavern-street, which, spacious as it is, was in a few minutes absolutely filled with the vast crowds. The procession again reached the quays, and moved along Wood-quay and Essex-quay, and into Parliament-street, which it reached at twenty minutes to two o'clock. Passing down Parliament-street, and approaching the O'Connell statue, a number of persons began to cheer, but this was promptly suppressed by the leaders, who galloped in advance for some distance with a view to the preservation of the mournful silence that had prevailed. This was strictly enjoined, and the instruction was generally observed by the processionists. The reverential manner in which the many thousands of the people passed the statue of the Liberator was very observable. A rather heavy rain was falling at the time, yet there were thousands who uncovered their heads as they looked up to the statue which expressed the noble attitude and features of O'Connell. As the procession moved along through Dame-street the footways became blocked up, and lines of cabs took up places in the middle of the carriageway, and the police exercised a wise discretion in preventing vehicles from the surrounding streets driving in amongst the crowds. By this means the danger of serious accident was prevented without any public inconvenience being occasioned, as a line parallel to that which the procession was taking was kept clear for all horse conveyances. Owing to the hour growing late, and a considerable distance still to be gone over, the procession moved at a quick pace. In anticipation of its arrival great crowds collected in the vicinity of the Bank of Ireland and Trinity College, where the _cortege_ was kept well together, notwithstanding the difficulty of such a vast mass passing on through the heart of the city filled at this point with immense masses of spectators. Oil passing the old Parliament-house numbers of men in the procession took of their hats, but the disposition to cheer was suppressed, as it was at several other points along the route. Turning down Westmoreland-street, the procession, marshalled by Dr. Waters on horseback, passed slowly along between the thick files of people on each side, most of whom displayed the mourning and national symbols, black and green. The spacious thoroughfare in a few minutes was filled with the dense array, which in close compact ranks pressed on, the women, youths, and children, bearing bravely the privations of the day, the bands preceding and following the hearses playing the Dead March, the solemn notes filling the air with mournful cadence. The windows of the houses on each side of the street were filled with groups of spectators of the strange and significant spectacle below. With the dark masses of men, broken at intervals by the groups of females and children, still stretched lengthily in the rere, the first section of the procession crossed Carlisle-bridge, the footways and parapets of which were thronged with people, nearly all of whom wore the usual tokens of sympathy. Passing the bridge, a glance to the right, down the river, revealed the fact that the ships, almost without exception, had their flags flying half mast high, and that the rigging of several were filled with seamen, who chose this elevated position to get a glimpse of the procession as it emerged into Sackville-street. Here the sight was imposing. A throng of spectators lined each side of the magnificent thoroughfare, and the lofty houses had their windows on each side occupied with spectators. Pressing onwards with measured, steady pace, regardless of the heavy rain, the cold wind, and the gloomy sky, the procession soon filled Sackville-street from end to end with its dense dark mass, which stretching away over Carlisle-bridge, seemed motionless in the distance. The procession defiled to the left of the site of the O'Connell monument at the head of the street, and the national associations connected with this spot was acknowledged by the large numbers of the processionists, who, with uncovered heads, marched past, some expressing their feelings with a subdued cheer. The foremost ranks were nearing Glasnevin when the first of the hearses entered Sackville-street, which, at this moment, held a numberless throng of people, processionists, and spectators, the latter, as at all the other points of the route, exhibiting prominently the sable and green emblems, which evidenced their approval of the demonstration. The hearses slowly passed along, followed by the mourning carriages, the bands playing alternately "Adeste Fidelis" and the "Dead March," and then followed the deep column of the processionists, still marching onwards with unflagging spirit, thousands seeming to be thoroughly soaked with the rain, which was falling all the morning. Sackville-street was perhaps the best point from which to get a correct notion of the enormous length of the procession, and of the great numbers that accompanied it on its way without actually entering the ranks. The base of the Nelson monument was covered with spectators, and at the corners of Earl-street and Henry-street there were stationary crowds, who chose these positions to get a good view of the great display as it progressed towards Cavendish-row. Through this comparatively narrow thoroughfare the procession passed along into North Frederick-street and Blessington-street, and thence by Upper Berkeley-street to the Circular-road. Along this part of the route there were crowds of spectators, male and female, most of whom wore the crape, and green ribbons, all hurrying forward to the cemetery, the last stage of the long and fatiguing journey of the procession. As the first part of the array passed the Mater Misericordiæ Hospital, and came in sight of the Mountjoy Prison, they gave a cheer, which was caught up by those behind, and as file after file passed the prison the cheers were repeated. With unbroken and undiminished ranks the procession pressed on towards Glasnevin; but when the head had reached the cemetery, the closing section must have been far away in the city. The first part of the procession halted outside the gate of the cemetery, the spacious area in front of which was in a few moments completely filled by the dense masses who came up. A move then became necessary, and accordingly the procession recommenced its journey by passing through the open gates of the cemetery down the pathways leading to the M'Manus grave, followed by some of the bands playing the "Adeste Fidelis." As fast as the files passed through others marched up, and when, after some time the carriage containing Mr. John Martin arrived, the open ground fronting the cemetery was one enormous mass of the processionists, while behind on the road leading up to this point thousands were to be seen moving slowly forward to the strains of the "Dead March," given out by the bands immediately in front of the hearses.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    Along this street, Parliament Street in Dublin, a funeral procession passed the O'Connell statue in 1867. The procession reached Parliament Street at twenty minutes to two o'clock. It had moved in a compact mass through the city, marshalled by horsemen and men with wands, filling the streets as it went. As the procession approached the O'Connell statue, a number of persons began to cheer. But the leaders promptly suppressed it. They galloped ahead to preserve the mournful silence that had prevailed. This was strictly enjoined, and the instruction was generally observed by the processionists. The reverential manner in which the thousands passed the statue of the Liberator was very observable. A heavy rain was falling at the time, yet thousands uncovered their heads as they looked up to the statue, which expressed the noble attitude and features of O'Connell. The procession moved on through Dame Street, where the footways became blocked. Lines of cabs took up places in the carriageway, and the police prevented vehicles from driving in amongst the crowds. The procession moved at a quick pace, as the hour was growing late and a considerable distance still remained. Passing the old Parliament House, numbers of men took off their hats. Again the disposition to cheer was suppressed. The procession turned down Westmoreland Street, marshalled by Dr. Waters on horseback. Most of the spectators displayed mourning and national symbols, black and green. The bands preceding and following the hearses played the Dead March, the solemn notes filling the air with mournful cadence.

26. The Evening Mail and Dublin public opinion after Manchester executions

    Dublin · city · Dublin · 1867

    Sullivan recalls that in Dublin nothing was done in response to the Manchester executions until the Evening Mail newspaper falsely claimed that Irish popular feeling endorsed the justice of the hangings, prompting Dubliners to organise a public response.

    Read the passage

    Mr. Sullivan--I am sorry, my lord, for the interruption; though not sorry the people should endorse my estimate of the police. Well, gentlemen, the van was abandoned by its valiant guard; but there remained inside one brave and faithful fellow, Brett by name. I am now giving you the facts as I in my conscience and soul believe they occurred--and as millions of my countrymen--aye, and thousands of Englishmen, too--solemnly believe them to have occurred, though they differ in one item widely from the crown version. Brett refused to give up the key of the van, which he held; and the attacking party commenced various endeavours to break it open. At length one of them called out to fire a pistol into the lock, and thus burst it open. The unfortunate Brett at that moment was looking through the keyhole, endeavouring to get a view of the inexplicable scene outside, when he received the bullet and fell dead. Gentlemen, that may be the true, or it may be the mistaken version. You may hold to the other, or you may hold to this. But whether I be mistaken therein, or otherwise, I say here, as I would say if I stood now before my Eternal Judge on the Last Day, I solemnly believe the mournful episode to have happened thus--I solemnly believe that the man Brett was shot by accident, and not by design. But even suppose your view differs sincerely from mine, will you, can you, hold that I, thus conscientiously persuaded, sympathise with murder, because I sympathise with men hanged for that which I contend was accident, and not murder? That is exactly the issue in this case. Well, the rescued Fenian leaders got away; and then, when all was over--when the danger was passed--valour tremendous returned to the fleet of foot Manchester police. Oh, but they wreaked their vengeance that night on the houses of the poor Irish in Manchester! By a savage razzia they soon filled the jails with our poor countrymen seized on suspicion. And then broke forth all over England that shout of anger and passion which none of us will ever forget. The national pride had been sorely wounded; the national power had been openly and humiliatingly defied; the national fury was aroused. On all sides resounded the hoarse shout for vengeance, swift and strong. Then was seen a sight the most shameful of its kind that this century has exhibited--a sight at thought of which Englishmen yet will hang their heads for shame, and which the English historian will chronicle with reddened check--those poor and humble Irish youths led into the Manchester dock in chains! In chains! Yes; iron fetters festering wrist and ankle! Oh, gentlemen, it was a fearful sight; for no one can pretend that in the heart of powerful England there could be danger those poor Irish youths would overcome the authorities and capture Manchester. For what, then, were those chains put on untried prisoners? Gentlemen, it was at this point exactly that Irish sympathy came to the side of those prisoners. It was when we saw them thus used, and saw that, innocent or guilty, they would be immolated--sacrificed to glut the passion of the hour--that our feelings rose high and strong in their behalf. Even in England there were men--noble-hearted Englishmen, for England is never without such men--who saw that if tried in the midst of this national frenzy, those victims would be sacrificed; and accordingly efforts were made for a postponement of the trial. But the roar of passion carried its way. Not even till the ordinary assizes would the trial be postponed. A special commission was sped to do the work while Manchester jurors were in a white heat of panic, indignation, and fury. Then came the trial, which was just what might be expected. Witnesses swore ahead without compunction, and jurors believed them without hesitation. Five men arraigned together as principals--Allen, Larkin, O'Brien, Shore, and Maguire--were found guilty, and the judge concerning in the verdict, were sentenced to death. Five men--not three men, gentlemen--five men in the one verdict, not five separate verdicts. Five men by the same evidence and the same jury in the same verdict. Was that a just verdict? The case of the crown here to-day is that it was--that it is "sedition" to impeach that verdict. A copy of that conviction is handed in here as evidence to convict me of sedition for charging as I do that that was a wrong verdict, a bad verdict, a rotten and a false verdict. But what is the fact? That her Majesty's ministers themselves admit and proclaim that it was a wrong verdict, a false verdict. The very evening those men were sentenced, thirty newspaper reporters sent up to the Home Secretary a petition protesting that--the evidence of the witnesses and the verdict of the jury notwithstanding--there was at least one innocent man thus marked for execution. The government felt that the reporters were right and the jurors wrong. They pardoned Maguire as an innocent man--that same Maguire whose legal conviction is here put in as evidence that he and four others were truly murderers, to sympathise with whom is to commit sedition--nay, "to glorify the cause of murder." Well, after that, our minds were easy. We considered it out of the question any man would be hanged on a verdict thus ruined, blasted, and abandoned; and believing those men innocent of murder, though guilty of another most serious legal crime--rescue with violence, and incidental, though not intentional loss of life--we rejoiced that a terrible mistake was, as we thought, averted. But now arose in redoubled fury the savage cry for blood. In vain good men, noble and humane men, in England tried to save the national honour by breasting this horrible outburst of passion. They were overborne. Petitioners for mercy were mobbed and hooted in the streets. We saw all this--we saw all this; and think you it did not sink into our hearts? Fancy if you can our feelings when we heard that yet another man out of five was respited--ah, he was an American, gentlemen--an American, not an Irishman--but that the three Irishmen, Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien, were to die--were to be put to death on a verdict and on evidence that would not hang a dog in England! We refused to the last to credit it; and thus incredulous, deemed it idle to make any effort to save their lives. But it was true; it was deadly true. And then, gentlemen, the doomed three appeared in a new character. Then they rose into the dignity and heroism of martyrs. The manner in which they bore themselves through the dreadful ordeal ennobled them for ever It was then we all learned to love and revere them as patriots and Christians. Oh, gentlemen, it is only at this point I feel my difficulty in addressing you whose religious faith is not that which is mine. For it is only Catholics who can understand the emotions aroused in Catholic hearts by conduct such as theirs in that dreadful hour. Catholics alone can understand how the last solemn declarations of such men, after receiving the last sacraments of the Church, and about to meet their Great Judge face to face, can outweigh the reckless evidence of Manchester thieves and pickpockets. Yes; in that hour they told us they were innocent, but were ready to die; and we believed them. We believe them still. Aye, do we! They did not go to meet their God with a falsehood on their lips. On that night before their execution, oh, what a scene! What a picture did England present at the foot of the Manchester scaffold! The brutal populace thronged thither in tens of thousands. They danced; they sang; they blasphemed; they chorused "Rule Britannia," and "God save the Queen," by way of taunt and defiance of the men whose death agonies they had come to see! Their shouts and brutal cries disturbed the doomed victims inside the prison as in their cells they prepared in prayer and meditation to meet their Creator and their God. Twice the police had to remove the crowd from around that wing of the prison; so that our poor brothers might in peace go through their last preparations for eternity, undisturbed by the yells of the multitude outside. Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen--that scene! That scene in the grey cold morning when those innocent men were led out to die--to die an ignominious death before that wolfish mob! With blood on fire--with bursting hearts--we read the dreadful story here in Ireland. We knew that these men would never have been thus sacrificed had not their offence been political, and had it not been that in their own way they represented the old struggle of the Irish race. We felt that if time had but been permitted for English passion to cool down, English good feeling and right justice would have prevailed; and they never would have been put to death on such a verdict. All this we felt, yet we were silent till we heard the press that had hounded those men to death falsely declaring that our silence was acquiescence in the deed that consigned them to murderers' graves. Of this I have personal knowledge, that, here in Dublin at least, nothing was done or intended, until the _Evening Mail_ declared that popular feeling which had had ample time to declare itself, if it felt otherwise, quite recognised the justice of the execution. Then we resolved to make answer. Then Ireland made answer. For what monarch, the loftiest in the world, would such demonstrations be made, the voluntary offerings of a people's grief! Think you it was "sympathy for murder" called us forth, or caused the priests of the Catholic Church to drape their churches? It is a libel to utter the base charge. No, no. With the acts of those men at that rescue we had nought to say. Of their innocence of murder we were convinced. Their patriotic feelings, their religious devotion, we saw proved in the noble, the edifying manner of their death. We believed them to have been unjustly sacrificed in a moment of national passion; and we resolved to rescue their memory from the foul stains of their maligners, and make it a proud one for ever with Irishmen. Sympathy with murder, indeed! What I am about to say will be believed; for I think I have shown no fear of consequences in standing by my acts and principles--I say for myself, and for the priests and people of Ireland, who are affected by this case, that sooner would we burn our right hands to cinders than express, directly or indirectly, sympathy with murder; and that our sympathy for Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien is based upon the conviction that they were innocent of any such crime. Gentlemen, having regard to all the circumstances of this sad business, having regard to the feelings under which we acted, think you is it a true charge that we had for our intent and object the bringing of the administration of justice into contempt? Does a man, by protesting, ever so vehemently, against an act of a not infallible tribunal, incur the charge of attempting its overthrow? What evidence can be shown to you that we uttered a word against the general character of the administration of justice in this country, while denouncing this particular proceeding, which we say was a fearful failure of justice--a horrible blunder, a terrible act of passion! None--none. I say, for myself, I sincerely believe that in this country of ours justice is administered by the judges of the Irish Bench with a purity and impartiality between man and man not to be surpassed in the universal world. Let me not be thought to cast reflection on this court, or the learned judges before whom I now stand, if I except in a certain sense, and on some occasions, political trials between the subject and the crown. Apart from this, I fearlessly say the bench of justice in Ireland fully enjoys and is worthy of respect and homage. I care not from what political party its members be drawn, I say that, with hardly an exception, when robed with the ermine, they become dead to the world of politics, and sink the politician in the loftier character of representative of Sacred Justice. Yet, gentlemen, holding those views, I would, nevertheless, protest against and denounce such a trial as that in Manchester, if it had taken place here in Ireland. For, what we contend is that the men in Manchester would never have been found guilty on such evidence, would never have been executed on such a verdict, if time had been given to let panic and passion pass away--time to let English good sense and calm reason and, sense of justice have sway. Now, gentlemen, judge ye me on this whole case; for I have done. I have spoken at great length, but I plead not merely my own cause but the cause of my country. For myself I care little. I stand before you here with the manacles, I might say, on my hands. Already a prison cell awaits me in Kilmainham. My doom, in any event, is sealed. Already a conviction has been obtained against me for my opinions on this same event; for it is not one arrow alone that has been shot from the crown office quiver at me--at my reputation, my property, my liberty. In a few hours more my voice will be silenced; but before the world is shut out from me for a term, I appeal to your verdict--to the verdict of my fellow-citizens--of my fellow-countrymen--to judge my life, my conduct, my acts, my principles and say am I a criminal. Sedition, in a rightly ordered community, is indeed a crime. But who is it that challenges me? Who is it that demands my loyalty? Who is it that calls out to me, "Oh, ingrate son, where is the filial affection, the respect, the obedience, the support, that is my due? Unnatural, seditious, and rebellious child, a dungeon shall punish your crime!" I look in the face of my accuser, who thus holds me to the duty of a son. I turn to see if there I can recognise the features of that mother, whom indeed I love, my own dear Ireland. I look into that accusing face, and there I see a scowl, and not a smile. I miss the soft, fond voice, the tender clasp, the loving word. I look upon the hands reached out to grasp me--to punish me; and lo, great stains, blood red, upon those hands; and my sad heart tells me it is the blood of my widowed mother, Ireland. Then I answer to my accuser--"You have no claim on me--on my love, my duty, my allegiance. You are not my mother. You sit indeed in the place where she should reign. You wear the regal garments torn from her limbs, while she now sits in the dust, uncrowned and overthrown, and bleeding, from many a wound. But my heart is with her still. Her claim alone is recognised by me. She still commands my love, my duty, my allegiance; and whatever the penalty may be, be it prison chains, be it exile or death, to her I will be true" (applause). But, gentlemen of the jury, what is that Irish nation to which my allegiance turns? Do I thereby mean a party, or a class, or creed? Do I mean only those who think and feel as I do on public questions? Oh, no. It is the whole people of this land--the nobles, the peasants, the clergy the merchants, the gentry, the traders, the professions--the Catholic, the Protestant, the Dissenter. Yes. I am loyal to all that a good and patriotic citizen should be loyal to; I am ready, not merely to obey, but to support with heartfelt allegiance, the constitution of my own country--the Queen as Queen of Ireland, and the free parliament of Ireland once more reconstituted in our national senate-house in College--green. And reconstituted once more it will be. In that hour the laws will again be reconciled with national feeling and popular reverence. In that hour there will be no more disesteem, or hatred, or contempt for the laws: for, howsoever a people may dislike and resent laws imposed upon them against their will by a subjugating power, no nation disesteems the laws of its own making. That day, that blessed day, of peace and reconciliation, and joy, and liberty, I hope to see. And when it comes, as come it will, in that hour it will be remembered for me that I stood here to face the trying ordeal, ready to suffer for my country--walking with bared feet over red hot ploughshares like the victims of old. Yes; in that day it will be remembered for me, though a prison awaits me now, that I was one of those journalists of the people who, through constant sacrifice and self-immolation, fought the battle of the people, and won every vestige of liberty remaining in the land. (As Mr. Sullivan resumed his seat, the entire audience burst into applause, again and again renewed, despite all efforts at repression.)

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

    As the companion tells it

    As you travel through Dublin, you are passing through a city that, in 1867, held its silence after the Manchester executions, until a newspaper provoked it into response. Sullivan, speaking in his own defence, recalled what happened. In Manchester, Fenian leaders had been rescued from a police van. The guard, Brett, refused to give up the key. Someone fired a pistol into the lock to burst it open. Brett, looking through the keyhole at that moment, received the bullet and fell dead. Sullivan said he solemnly believed this was accident, not design. Five men, Allen, Larkin, O'Brien, Shore, and Maguire, were tried together on the same evidence and found guilty in a single verdict. Maguire was pardoned as an innocent man. Shore, an American, was respited. Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien were hanged. Sullivan said the night before the execution, tens of thousands gathered outside the prison, singing and shouting, while the three men prepared in their cells for death. Here in Dublin, Sullivan said, nothing was done or intended until the Evening Mail declared that popular feeling quite recognised the justice of the execution. That false claim changed things. Then, he said, we resolved to make answer. Then Ireland made answer. Sullivan said the sympathy was not for murder but for men believed innocent of it, unjustly sacrificed in a moment of national passion. He himself already had a conviction against him for his opinions on the same event, and a prison cell awaited him in Kilmainham.

27. Government Proclamation Bans Kilkenny Procession

    Kilkenny · city · Kilkenny · 1867

    The Lord Lieutenant issued a proclamation on 12 December 1867 forbidding the planned meeting and procession in Kilkenny in honour of the Manchester Martyrs, describing such gatherings as seditious and directing magistrates to suppress them.

    Read the passage

    Whereas it has been publicly announced that a meeting is to assemble in the city of _Kilkenny_, and that a procession is to take place there on Sunday, 15th day of December instant:

    And whereas placards of the said intended meeting and procession have been printed and circulated, stating that the said intended procession is to take place in honour of certain men lately executed in Manchester for the crime of murder, and calling upon Irishmen to assemble in thousands for the said procession:

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 4

28. Harp displayed at Roantree's house in High Street during the procession

    High Street · street · Dublin · 1867

    At the house of Roantree in High Street, a man convicted of treason-felony, a lady in deep mourning displayed a harp in a drawing-room window, and the passing procession cheered loudly.

    Read the passage

    About one o'clock the head of the procession, which had been compressed into a dense mass in Stevens'-lane, burst like confined water when relieved of restraint, on entering James's-street, where every window and doorstep was crowded. Along the lines of footway extending at either side from the old fountain up to James's-gate, were literally tented over with umbrellas of every hue and shade, held up as protection against the cold rain that fell in drizzling showers and made the streetway on which the vast numbers stood ankle deep in the slushy mud. The music of the "Dead March in Saul," heard in the distance, caused the people to break from the lines in which they had partially stood awaiting the arrival of the procession, which now, for the first time, began to assume its full proportions. As it moved along the quays at the north side of the river, every street, bridge, and laneway served to obstruct to a considerable extent its progress and its order, owing to interruption from carriage traffic and from the crowds that poured into it and swelled it in its onward course. In the vast multitudes that lined this great western artery of the city, the greatest order and propriety were observed, and all seemed to be impressed with the one solemn and all-pervading idea that they were assembled to express their deep sympathy with the fate of three men whom they believed had been condemned and had suffered death unjustly. Even amongst the young there was not to be recognised the slightest approach to levity, and the old characteristics of a great Irish gathering were not to be perceived anywhere. The wrong, whether real or imaginary, done to Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin, made their memory sacred with the thousands that stood for hours in the December wet and cold of yesterday, to testify by their presence their feelings and their sympathies. The horsemen wearing green rosettes, trimmed with crape, who rode in advance of the procession, kept back the crowds at either side that encroached on the space in the centre of the street required for the vast coming mass to move through. On it came, the advance with measured tread, to the music of the band in front, and notwithstanding the mire which had to be waded through, the line went on at quiet pace, and with admirable order, but there was no effort at anything like semi-military swagger or pompous demonstration. Every window along the route of the procession was fully occupied by male and female spectators, all wearing green ribbons and crape, and in front of several of the houses black drapery was suspended. The tide of men, women, and children continued to roll on in the drenching rain, but nearly all the fair processionists carried umbrellas. It was not till the head of the vast moving throng had reached James's-gate that anything like a just conception could be formed of its magnitude, as it was only now that it was beginning to get into regular shape and find room to extend itself. The persons whose duty it was to keep the several parts of the procession well together had no easy part to play, as the line had to be repeatedly broken to permit the ordinary carriage traffic of the streets to go on with as little delay as possible. The _cortege_ at this point looked grand and solemn in the extreme because of its vastness, and also because of all present appearing to be impressed with the one idea. The gloomy, wet, and cheerless weather was quite in keeping with the funeral march of 35,000 people. The bands were placed at such proper distances that the playing of one did not interfere with the other. After passing James's-gate the band in front ceased to perform, and on passing the house 151 Thomas-street every head was uncovered in honour of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was arrested and mortally wounded by Major Sirr and his assistants in the front bedroom of the second floor of that house. Such was the length of the procession, that an hour had elapsed from the time its head entered James's-street before the first hearse turned the corner of Stevens'-lane. In the neighbourhood of St. Catherine's church a vast crowd of spectators had settled down, and every available elevation was taken possession of. At this point a large portion of the streetway was broken up for the purpose of laying down water-pipes, and on the lifting-crane and the heaps of earth the people wedged and packed themselves, which showed at once that this was a great centre of attraction--and it was, for here was executed the young and enthusiastic Robert Emmet sixty-four years ago. When Allen, O'Brien, and Larkin were condemned to death as political offenders, some of the highest and the noblest in the land warned the government to pause before the extreme penalty pronounced on the condemned men would be carried into effect, but all remonstrance was in vain, and on last Saturday fortnight, three comparatively unknown men in their death passed into the ranks of heroes and martyrs, because it was believed, and believed generally, that their lives were sacrificed to expediency, and not to satisfy justice. The spot where Robert Emmet closed his young life on a bloody scaffold was yesterday regarded by thousands upon thousands of his countrymen and women as a holy place, and all looked upon his fate as similar to that of the three men whose memory they had assembled to honour, and whose death they pronounced to be unjust. It would be hard to give a just conception of the scene here, as the procession advanced and divided, as it were, into two great channels, owing to the breaking up of the streetway. On the advance of the _cortege_ reaching the top of Bridgefoot-street every head was uncovered, and nothing was to be heard but the measured tread of the vast mass, but as if by some secret and uncontrollable impulse a mighty, ringing, and enthusiastic cheer, broke from the moving throng as the angle of the footway at the eastern end of St. Catherine's church, where the scaffold on which Emmet was executed stood, was passed. In that cheer there appeared to be no fiction, as it evidently came straight from the hearts of thousands, who waved their hats and handkerchiefs, as did also the groups that clustered in the windows of the houses in the neighbourhood. As the procession moved on from every part of it the cheers rose again and again, men holding up their children, and pointing out the place where one who loved Ireland, "not wisely but too well," rendered up his life. When the hearse with white plumes came up bearing on the side draperies the words "William P. Allen," all the enthusiasm and excitement ceased, and along the lines of spectators prayers for the repose of the soul of the departed man passed from mouth to mouth; and a sense of deep sadness seemed to settle down on the swaying multitude as the procession rolled along on its way. After this hearse came large numbers of females walking on bravely, apparently heedless of the muddy streets and the unceasing rain that came down without a moment's intermission. When the second hearse, bearing white plumes and the name of "Michael O'Brien" on the side pendants, came up, again all heads were uncovered, and prayers recited by the people for the everlasting rest of the departed. Still onward rolled the mighty mass, young and old, and in the entire assemblage was not to be observed a single person under the influence of drink, or requiring the slightest interference on the part of the police, whose exertions were altogether confined to keeping the general thoroughfare clear of obstruction. Indeed, justly speaking, the people required no supervision, as they seemed to feel that they had a solemn duty to discharge. Fathers were to be seen bearing in their arms children dressed in white and decorated with green ribbons, and here, as elsewhere, was observed unmistakable evidence of the deep sympathy of the people with the executed men. This was, perhaps, more strikingly illustrated as the third hearse, with sable plumes, came up bearing at either side the name of "Michael Larkin;" prayers for his soul's welfare were mingled with expressions of commiseration for his widow and children. At the entrance to Cornmarket, where the streetway narrows, the crushing became very great, but still the procession kept its onward course. On passing the shop of Hayburne, who, it will be remembered, was convicted of being connected with the Fenian conspiracy, a large number of persons in the procession uncovered and cheered. In the house of Roantree, in High-street, who was also convicted of treason-felony, a harp was displayed in one of the drawingroom windows by a lady dressed in deep mourning, and the procession loudly cheered as it passed on its route.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 2

29. Sullivan convicted at Green-street for seditious writings

    Green Street · street · Dublin · 1868

    On 15 February 1868, a jury packed by the 'stand-by' process convicted A.M. Sullivan at Green-street of seditiously bringing the crown and government into hatred and contempt through writings and pictures in the Weekly News.

    Read the passage

    Next morning, Saturday, 15th February, 1868, the trial commenced; a jury was duly packed by the "stand-by" process, and notwithstanding a charge by Justice Fitzgerald, which was, on the whole one of the fairest heard in Ireland in a political case for many years, Mr. Sullivan was duly convicted of having, by pictures and writings in his journal the _Weekly News_, seditiously brought the crown and government into hatred and contempt.

    The government officials were jubilant. Mr. Pigott was next arraigned, and after an exceedingly able defence by Mr. Heron, was likewise convicted.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Along here at Green Street courthouse, on the 15th of February 1868, A.M. Sullivan stood trial for what he published in his journal the Weekly News. A jury was packed by the stand-by process, and though Justice Fitzgerald gave what was called one of the fairest charges in a political case in Ireland for many years, Sullivan was convicted of having, by pictures and writings, seditiously brought the crown and government into hatred and contempt. The government officials were jubilant. Mr. Pigott was arraigned next and, after an exceedingly able defence by Mr. Heron, was convicted as well.

30. Fears for the Dublin courts building and Custom House under the Union

    Custom House · electoral division · Limerick

    John Martin laments that under the Act of Union the superior law courts building on the Dublin quay was being prepared for removal to Westminster, warning it might be turned into a barrack like the Linen Hall, comparing the Custom House to an English tax-gatherer's office.

    Read the passage

    My lords and gentlemen of the jury--I am going to trouble this court with some reply to the charge made against me in this indictment. But I am sorry that I must begin by protesting that I do not consider myself as being now put upon my country to be tried as the constitution directs--as the spirit of the constitution requires--and, therefore, I do not address you for my legal defence, but for my vindication before the tribunal of conscience--a far more awful tribunal, to my mind, than this. Gentlemen, I regard you as twelve of my fellow-countrymen, known or believed by my prosecutors to be my political opponents, and selected for that reason for the purpose of obtaining a conviction against me in form of law. Gentlemen, I have not the smallest purpose of casting an imputation against your honesty or the honesty of my prosecutors who have selected you. This is a political trial, and in this country political trials are always conducted in this way. It is considered by the crown prosecutors to be their duty to exclude from the jury-box every juror known, or suspected, to hold or agree with the accused in political sentiment. Now, gentlemen, I have not the least objection to see men of the most opposite political sentiments to mine placed in the jury-box to try me, provided they be placed there as the constitution commands--provided they are twelve of my neighbours indifferently chosen. As a loyal citizen I am willing and desirous to be put upon my county, and fairly tried before any twelve of my countrymen, no matter what may happen to be the political sentiments of any of them. But I am sorry and indignant that this is not such a trial. This system by which over and over again loyal subjects of the Queen in Ireland are condemned in form of law for seeking, by such means as the constitution warrants, to restore her Majesty's kingdom of Ireland to the enjoyment of its national rights--this system, of selecting anti-Repealers and excluding Repealers from the jury box, when a Repealer like me is to be tried, is calculated to bring the administration of justice into disesteem, disrepute, and hatred. I here protest against it. My lords and gentlemen of the jury, before I offer any reply to the charges in this indictment, and the further development of those charges made yesterday by the learned gentleman whose official duty it was to argue the government's case against me, I wish to apologise to the court for declining to avail myself of the professional assistance of the bar upon this occasion. It is not through any want of respect for the noble profession of the bar that I decline that assistance. I regard the duties of a lawyer as among the most respectable that a citizen can undertake. His education has taught him to investigate the origin, and to understand principles of law, and the true nature of loyalty. He has had to consider how the interests of individual citizens may harmonise with the interests of the community, how justice and liberty may be united, how the state may have both order and contentment. The application of the knowledge which he has gained--viz., the study of law to the daily facts of human society--sharpens and strengthens all his faculties, clears his judgment, helps him to distinguish true from false, and right from wrong. It is no wonder, gentlemen, that an accomplished and virtuous lawyer holds a high place in the aristocracy of merit in every free country. Like all things human, the legal profession has its dark as well as its bright side, has in it germs of decay and rotten foulness as well as of health and beauty; but yet it is a noble profession, and one which I admire and respect. But, above all, I would desire to respect the bar of my own country, and the Irish bar--the bar made illustrious by such memories as those of Grattan and Flood, and the Emmets, and Curran, and Plunket, and Saurin, and Holmes, and Sheil, and O'Connell. I may add, too, of Burke and of Sheridan, for they were Irish in all that made them great. The bar of Ireland wants this day only the ennobling inspirations of national freedom to raise it to a level with the world. Under the Union very few lawyers have been produced whose names can rank in history with any of the great names I have mentioned. But still, even the present times of decay, and when the Union is preparing to carry away our superior courts, and the remains of our bar to Westminster, and to turn that beautiful building upon the quay into a barrack like the Linen Hall, or an English tax-gatherer's office like the Custom House, there are many learned, accomplished, and respectable lawyers at the Irish bar, and far be it from me to doubt but that any Irish lawyer who might undertake my defence would loyally exert himself as the lofty idea of professional honour commands to save me from a conviction. But to this attack upon my character as a good citizen and upon my liberty, my lords and gentlemen, the only defence I could permit to be offered would be a full justification of my political conduct, morally, constitutionally, legally--a complete vindication of my acts and words alleged to be seditious and disloyal, and to retort against my accusers the charge of sedition and disloyalty. Not, indeed, that I would desire to prosecute these gentlemen upon that charge, if I could count upon convicting them and send them to the dungeon instead of myself. I don't desire to silence them, or to hurt a hair of their wigs because their political opinions differed from mine. Gentlemen, this prosecution against me, like the prosecutions just accomplished against two national newspapers, is part of a scheme of the ministers of the crown for suppressing all voice of protest against the Union, for suppressing all public complaint against the deadly results of the Union, and all advocacy by act, speech, or writing for Repeal of the Union. Now I am a Repealer so long as I have been a politician at all--that is for at least twenty-four years past. Until the national self-government of my country be first restored, there appears to me to be no place, no _locus standi_ (as lawyers say), for any other Irish political question, and I consider it to be my duty as a patriotic and loyal citizen, to endeavour by all honourable and prudent means to procure the Repeal of the Act of the Union, and the restoration of the independent Irish government, of which my country was (as I have said in my prosecuted speech), "by fraud and force," and against the will of the vast majority of its people of every race, creed, and class, though under false form of law, deprived sixty-seven years ago. Certainly, I do not dispute the right of you, gentlemen, or of any man in this court, or in all Ireland, to approve of the Union, to praise it, if you think right, as being wise and beneficent, and to advocate its continuance openly by act, speech, and writing. But I naturally think that my convictions in this matter of the Union ought to be shared by you also, gentlemen, and by the learned judges, and the lawyers, both crown lawyers and all others, and by the policemen and soldiers, and all faithful subjects of her Majesty in Ireland. Now, gentlemen, such being my convictions, were I to entrust my defence in this court to a lawyer, he must speak as a Repealer, not only for me, but for himself, not only as a professional advocate, but as a man, and from the heart. I cannot doubt but that there are very many Irish lawyers who privately share my convictions about Repeal. Believing as I do in my heart and conscience, and with all the force of the mind that God has given me, that Repeal is the right and the only right policy for Ireland--for healing all the wounds of our community, all our sectarian feuds, all our national shame, suffering, and peril--for making our country peaceful, industrious, prosperous, respectable, and happy--I cannot doubt but that in the enlightened profession of the bar there must be very many Irishmen who, like me, consider Repeal to be right, and best, and necessary for the public good. But, gentlemen, ever since the Union, by fraud and force and against the will of the Irish people, was enacted--ever since that act of usurpation by the English parliament of the sovereign rights of the queen, lords, and commons of Ireland--ever since this country was thereby rendered the subject instead of the sister of England--ever since the Union, but especially for about twenty years past, it has been the policy of those who got possession of the sovereign rights of the Irish crown to appoint to all places of public trust, emolument, or honour in Ireland only such as would submit, whether by parole or by tacit understanding, to suppress all public utterance of their desire for the Repeal of the Union such as has been the persistent policy towards this country of those who command all the patronage of Irish offices, paid and unpaid--the policy of all English ministers, whether Whig or Tory, combined with the disposal of the public forces--such a policy is naturally very effective in not really reconciling, but in keeping Ireland quietly subject to the Union. It is a hard trial of men's patriotism to be debarred from all career of profitable and honourable distinction in the public service of their own country. I do not wonder that few Irish lawyers, in presence of the mighty power of England, dare to sacrifice personal ambition and interest to what may seem a vain protest against accomplished facts. I do not wish to attack or offend them--as this court expresses it, to impute improper motives to them--by thus simply stating the sad facts which are relevant to my own case in this prosecution, and explaining that I decline professional assistance, because few lawyers would be so rash as to adopt my political convictions, and vindicate my political conduct as their own, and because if any lawyer were so bold as to offer me his aid on my own terms, I am too generous to permit him to ruin his professional career for my sake. Such are the reasons, gentlemen of the jury and my lords, why I am now going through this trial, not _secundum artum_, but like an eccentric patient who won't be treated by the doctors but will quack himself. Perhaps I would be safer if I did not say a word about the legal character of the charge made against me in this indictment. There are legal matters as dangerous to handle as any drugs in the pharmacopoeia. Yet I shall trouble you for a short time longer, while I endeavour to show that I have not acted in a way unbecoming a good citizen. The charge against me in this indictment is that I took part in an illegal procession by the provisions of the statute entitled in the Party Processions' Act. His lordship enumerated seven conditions, the violation of some one of which is necessary to render an assembly illegal at common law. Those seven conditions are--1. That the persons forming the assembly met to carry out an unlawful purpose. 2. That the numbers in which the persons met endangered the public peace. 3. That the assembly caused alarm to the peaceful subjects of the Queen. 4. That the assembly created disaffection. 5. That the assembly incited her Majesty's Irish subjects to hate her Majesty's English subjects--his lordship did not say anything of the case of an assembly inciting the Queen's English subjects to hate the Queen's Irish subjects, but no such case is likely to be tried here. 6. That the assembly intended to asperse the right and constitutional administration of justice; and 7. That the assembly intended to impair the functions of justice and to bring the administration of justice into disrepute. I say that the procession of the 8th December did not violate any one of these conditions--1. In the first place the persons forming that procession did not meet to carry out any unlawful purpose--their purpose was peaceably to express their opinion upon a public act of the public servants of the crown. 2. In the second place the numbers in which those persons met did not endanger the public peace. None of those persons carried arms. Thousands of those persons were women and children. There was no injury or offence attempted to be committed against anybody, and no disturbance of the peace took place. 3. In the third place the assembly caused no alarm to the peaceable subjects of the Queen--there is not a tittle of evidence to that effect. 4. In the fourth place the assembly did not create disaffection, neither was it intended or calculated to create disaffection. On the contrary, the assembly served to give peaceful expression to the opinion entertained by vast numbers of her Majesty's peaceful subjects upon a public act of the servants of the crown, an act which vast numbers of the Queen's subjects regretted and condemned. And thus the assembly was calculated to prevent or remove disaffection, and such open and peaceful manifestations of the real opinions of the Queen's subjects upon public affairs is the proper, safe, and constitutional way in which they may aid to prevent disaffection. 5. In the fifth place the assembly did not incite the Irish subjects of the Queen to hate her Majesty's subjects. On the contrary, it was a proper constitutional way of bringing about a right understanding upon a transaction which, if not fairly and fully explained and set right, must produce hatred between the two peoples. That transaction was calculated to produce hatred. But those who protest peaceably against such a transaction are not the party to be blamed, but those responsible for the transaction. 6. In the sixth place the assembly had no purpose of aspersing the right and constitutional administration of justice. Its tendency was peaceably to point out faults in the conduct of the servants of the crown, charged with the administration of justice, which faults were calculated to bring the administration of justice into disrepute. 7. Nor, in the seventh place, did the assembly impair the functions of justice, or intend or tend to do so. Even my prosecutors do not allege that judicial tribunals are infallible. It would be too absurd to make such an allegation in plain words. It is admitted on all hands that judges have sometimes given wrong directions, that juries have given wrong verdicts, that courts of justice have wrongfully appreciated the whole matter for trial. When millions of the Queen's subjects think that such wrong has been done, is it sedition for them to say so peaceably and publicly? On the contrary, the constitutional way for good citizens to act in striving to keep the administration of justice pure and above suspicion of unfairness, is by such open and peaceable protests. Thus, and thus only, may the functions of justice be saved from being impaired. In this case wrong had been done. Five men had been tried together upon the same evidence, and convicted together upon that evidence, and while one of the five was acknowledged by the crown to be innocent, and the whole conviction was thus acknowledged to be wrong and invalid, three of the five men were hanged upon that conviction. My friend, Mr. Sullivan, in his eloquent and unanswerable speech of yesterday, has so clearly demonstrated the facts of that unhappy and disgraceful affair of Manchester, that I shall merely say of it that I adopt every word he spoke upon the subject for mine, and to justify the sentiment and purpose with which I engaged in the procession of the 8th December. I say the persons responsible for that transanction are fairly liable to the charge of acting so as to bring the administration of justice into contempt, unless, gentlemen, you hold those persons to be infallible and hold that thay can do no wrong. But, gentlemen, the constitution does not say that the servants of the crown can do no wrong. According to the constitution the sovereign can do no wrong, but her servants may. In this case they have done wrong. And, gentlemen, you cannot right that wrong, nor save the administration of justice from the disreputation into which such proceedings are calculated to bring it, by giving a verdict to put my comrades and myself into jail for saying openly and peaceably that we believe the administration of justice in that unhappy affair did do wrong. But further, gentlemen, let us suppose that you twelve jurors, as well as the servants of the crown who are prosecuting me, and the two judges, consider me to be mistaken in my opinion upon that judicial proceeding, yet you have no right under the constitution to convict me of a misdemeanour for openly and peaceably expressing my opinion. You have no such right; and as to the wisdom of treating my differences of opinion and the peaceable expression of it as a penal offence--and the wisdom of a political act ought to be a serious question with all good and loyal citizens--consider that the opinion you are invited by the crown prosecutors to pronounce to be a penal offence is not mine alone, nor that of the five men herein indicted, but is the opinion of all the 30,000 persons estimated by the crown evidence to have taken part in the assembly of the 8th of December; is the opinion besides of the 90,000 or 100,000 others who, standing in the streets of this city, or at the open windows overlooking the streets traversed by the procession that day, manifested their sympathy with the objects of the procession; is the opinion, as you are morally certain, of some millions of your Irish fellow-subjects. By indicting me for the expression of that opinion the public prosecutors virtually indict some millions of the Queen's peaceable Irish subjects. It is only the convenience of this court--which could not hold the millions in one batch of traversers, and which would require daily sittings for several successive years to go through the proper formalities for duly trying all those millions; it is only the convenience of this court that can be pretended to relieve the crown prosecutors from the duty of trying and convicting all those millions if it is their duty to try and convict me. The right principles of law do not allow the servants of the crown to evade or neglect their duty of bringing to justice all offenders against the law. I suppose these gentlemen may allege that it is at their discretion what offenders against the law they will prosecute. I deny that the principles of the law allow them, or allow the Queen such discretion. The Queen, at her coronation services, swears to do justice to all her subjects according to the law. The Queen, certainly, has the right by the constitution to pardon any offenders against the law. She has the prerogative of mercy. But there can be no pardon, no mercy, till after an offence be proved in due course of law by accusation of the alleged offenders before the proper tribunals, followed by the plea of guilty or the jurors' verdict of guilty. And to select one man or six men for trial, condemnation, and punishment, out of, say, four millions who have really participated in the same alleged wicked, malicious, seditious, evil-disposed, and unlawful proceeding, is unfair to the six men, and unfair to the other 3,999,994 men--is a dereliction of duty on the part of the officers of the law, and is calculated to bring the administration of justice into disrepute. Equal justice is what the constitution demands. Under military authority an army may be decimated, and a few men may properly be punished, while the rest are left unpunished. But under a free constitution it is not so. Whoever breaks the law must be made amenable to punishment, or equal justice is not rendered to the subjects of the Queen. Is it not pertinent, therefore, gentlemen, for me to say to you this is an unwise proceeding which my prosecutors bid you to sanction by a verdict? I have heard it asked by a lawyer addressing this court as a question that must be answered in the negative--can you indict a whole nation? If such a proceeding as this prosecution against the peaceable procession of the 8th December receives the sanction of your verdict, that question must be answered in the affirmative. It will need only a crown prosecutor, an attorney-general, and a solicitor-general, two judges, and twelve jurors, all of the one mind, while all the other subjects of the Queen in Ireland are of a different mind, and the five millions and a half of the Queen's subjects of Ireland outside that circle of seventeen of her Majesty's subjects, may be indicted, convicted, and consigned to penal imprisonment in due form of law--a law as understood in political trials in Ireland. Gentlemen, I have thus far endeavoured to argue from the common sense of mankind, with which the principles of law must be in accord, that the peaceable procession of the 8th of December--that peaceable demonstration of the sentiment of millions of the Queen's subjects in Ireland--did not violate any of the seven conditions of the learned judge to the grand jury in defining what constitutes an illegal assembly at common law; and I have also argued that the prosecution is unwise, and calculated to excite discontent. Gentlemen, I shall now endeavour to show you that the procession of the 8th of December did not violate the statute entitled the Party Processions' Act. The learned judge in his charge told the grand jury that under this act all processions are illegal which carry weapons of offence, or which carry symbols calculated to promote the animosity of some other class of her Majesty's subjects. Applying the law to this case, his lordship remarked that the processions of the 8th of December had something of military array--that is, they went in regular order with a regular step. But, gentlemen, there were no arms in that procession, there were no symbols in that procession intended or calculated to provoke animosity in any other class of the Queen's subjects, or in any human creature. There were neither symbol, nor deed, or word intended to provoke animosity, and as to the military array--is it not absurd to attribute a warlike character to an unarmed and perfectly peaceful assemblage, in which there were some thousands of women and children? No offence was given or offered any human being. The authorities were so assured of the peacefulness and inoffensiveness of the assemblage that the police were withdrawn in a great measure from their ordinary duties of preventing disorders. And as to the remark that the people walked with a regular step, I need only say that was done for the sake of order and decorum. It would be merely to doubt whether you are men of common sense if I argued any further to satisfy you that the procession did not violate the Party Processions' Act, such as it is defined by the learned judge. The speech delivered on that occasion is an important element in forming a judgment upon the character and object of the procession. The speech declared the procession to be a peaceable expression of the opinion of those who composed it upon an important public transaction, an expression of sorrow and indignation at an act of the ministers of the government. It was a protest against that act--a protest which those who disapproved of it were entitled by the constitution to make, and which they made, peaceably and legitimately. Has not every individual of the millions of the Queen's subjects the right to say so say openly whether he approves or disapproves of any public act of the Queen's ministers? Has not all the Queen's subjects the right to say altogether if they can without disturbance of the Queen's peace? The procession enabled many thousands to do that without the least inconvenience or danger to themselves, and with no injury or offence to their neighbours. To prohibit or punish peaceful, inoffensive, orderly, and perfectly innocent processions upon pretence that they are constructively unlawful, is unconstitutional tyranny. Was it done because the ministers discovered that the terror of suspended habeas corpus had not in this matter stifled public opinion? Of course, if anything be prohibited by government, the people obey--of course I obey. I would not have held the procession had I not understood that it was permitted. But understanding that it was permitted, and so believing that it might serve the people for a safe and useful expression of their sentiment, I held the procession. I did not hold the procession because I believed it to be illegal, but because I believed it to be legal and understood it to be permitted. In this country it is not law that must rule a loyal citizen's conduct, but the caprice of the English ministers. For myself, I acknowledge that I submit to such a system of government unwillingly, and with constant hope for the restoration of the reign of law, but I do submit. Why at first did the ministers of the crown permit an expression of censure upon that judicial proceeding at Manchester by a procession--why did they not warn her Majesty's subjects against the danger of breaking the law? Was it not because they thought that the terrors of the suspended habeas corpus would be enough to prevent the people from coming openly forward at all to express their real sentiments? Was it because they found that so vehement and so general was the feeling of indignation at that unhappy transaction at Manchester that they did venture to come openly forward--with perfect peacefulness and most careful observance of the peace to express their real sentiments--that the ministry proclaimed down the procession, and now prosecute us in order to stifle public opinion? Gentlemen of the jury, I have said enough to convince any twelve reasonable men that there was nothing in my conduct in the matter of that procession which you can declare on your oaths to be "malicious, seditious, ill-disposed, and intended to disturb the peace and tranquility of the realm." I shall trouble you no further, except by asking you to listen to the summing up of this indictment, and, while you listen to judge between me and the attorney-general. I shall read you my words and his comment. Judge of us, Irish jurors, which of us two are guilty:--"Let us, therefore, conclude this proceeding by joining heartily, with hats off, in the prayer of those three men, 'God save Ireland.'" "Thereby," says the attorney-general in his indictment, "meaning, and intending to excite hatred, dislike, and animosity against her Majesty and the government, and bring into contempt the administration of justice and the laws of this realm, and cause strife and hatred between her Majesty's subjects in Ireland and in England, and to excite discontent and disaffection against her Majesty's government." Gentlemen, I have now done.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 7

    As the companion tells it

    You are passing through the Custom House division of Limerick. The name carries a story from John Martin's trial, where he spoke of what the Act of Union was doing to Ireland's institutions. Martin stood before the court addressing the jury, and in the course of his defence he turned to what the Union meant for the Irish bar and the Irish courts. He named the men who had made the Irish bar illustrious: Grattan and Flood, the Emmets, Curran, Plunket, Saurin, Holmes, Sheil, and O'Connell. He added Burke and Sheridan, saying they were Irish in all that made them great. He said that under the Union very few lawyers had been produced whose names could rank in history with any of those. Then he spoke of what was being taken away. The Union, he said, was preparing to carry away Ireland's superior courts and the remains of the bar to Westminster. He warned that the beautiful building upon the quay would be turned into a barrack like the Linen Hall, or what he called "an English tax-gatherer's office like the Custom House." That phrase captured his view of what the Union reduced Irish institutions to: military quarters or offices for collecting English taxes. Martin was a Repealer, and had been for at least twenty-four years. He believed the Union was enacted by fraud and force, against the will of the vast majority of the Irish people of every race, creed, and class, sixty-seven years before he spoke. He was on trial for taking part in a procession on the 8th of December, charged under the Party Processions' Act. The crown estimated 30,000 people took part, with 90,000 or 100,000 more watching from the streets.

31. Military Readiness at the Four Courts

    Four Courts · site · Dublin · 1867

    During the procession, a battery of guns was stationed in the rear yard of the Four Courts under Lord Strathnairn's direction, with troops and cavalry kept ready in case of disturbance, though none occurred.

    Read the passage

    Arrived in Sackville-street we were obliged to leave our cab and endeavour, on foot, to force a way to our destination. This magnificent street was crowded to repletion, and the approaches to Beresford-place were 'black with people.' It was found necessary, owing to the overwhelming numbers that assembled, to start the procession before the hour named for its setting forth, and so it was commenced in wonderful order, considering the masses that had to be welded into shape. Marshals on foot and on horseback proceeded by the side of those in rank and file, and they certainly wore successful in preserving regularity of procedure. Mourning coaches and cabs followed, and after each was a procession of women, at least a thousand in number. Young and old were there--all decked in some shape or other with green; many green dresses--some had green feathers in their hats, but all had green ribbons prominently displayed. The girls bore all the disagreeability of the long route with wonderful endurance; it was bitterly cold--a sleety rain fell during the entire day, and the roads were almost ankle deep in mud--yet when they passed me on the return route they were apparently as unwearied as when I saw them hours before. As the procession trooped by--thousand after thousand--there was not a drunken man to be seen--all were calm and orderly, and if they were, as many of them were--soaked through--wet to the skin--they endured the discomfiture resolutely. The numbers in the procession have been variously estimated, but in my opinion there could not have been less than 50,000. But the demonstration was not confined to the processionists alone; they walked through living walls, for along the entire route a mass of people lined the way, the great majority of whom wore some emblem of mourning, and every window of every house was thronged with ladies and children, nearly all of whom were decorated. All semblance of authority was withdrawn from sight, but every preparation had been made under the personal direction of Lord Strathnairn, the commander-in-chief, for the instant intervention of the military, had any disturbances taken place. The troops were confined to barracks since Saturday evening; they were kept in readiness to march at a moment's notice; the horses of the cavalry were saddled all day long, and those of the artillery were in harness. A battery of guns was in the rere yard of the Four Courts, and mounted orderlies were stationed at arranged points so as to convey orders to the different barracks as speedily as possible. But, thanks to Providence, all passed off quietly; the people seemed to feel the responsibility of their position, and accordingly not even an angry word was to be heard throughout the vast assemblage that for hours surged through the highways of the city.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Right here at the Four Courts in 1867, a battery of guns stood in the rear yard, ready for trouble that never came. Lord Strathnairn, the commander-in-chief, had made every preparation for instant military intervention during the funeral procession that day. Troops had been confined to barracks since Saturday evening, kept ready to march at a moment's notice. Cavalry horses stayed saddled all day, and artillery horses stayed in harness. The procession itself was enormous. Sackville Street was crowded to repletion, and the crowds were so great the procession started before the hour named for its setting forth. The writer estimated no fewer than 50,000 people marched. A thousand women followed the mourning coaches, young and old, all decked with green ribbons, green dresses, green feathers. It was bitterly cold, with sleety rain falling all day and mud almost ankle deep, yet when the writer saw them hours later on the return route they seemed as unwearied as when they started. Not a drunken man was to be seen, all calm and orderly. All semblance of authority was withdrawn from sight, but behind the scenes mounted orderlies were stationed at arranged points to convey orders to the different barracks. In the end, not even an angry word was heard throughout the vast assemblage.

32. Newspapers criticise Dublin police-court prosecution

    Dublin · city · Dublin · 1867

    Multiple Dublin newspapers, including Saunders's News-Letter, the Irish Times, and the Daily Express, criticized the government's handling of the police-court prosecutions of the funeral procession organisers as bungled and self-defeating.

    Read the passage

    The first step in what appears to be a very doubtful proceeding was taken yesterday by the law advisers of the crown. We refer to the prosecution instituted against the leaders and organisers of the Fenian procession which took place in this city on Sunday, the 8th instant, in honour of the memories of the men executed at Manchester for murder. As to the character of that demonstration we never entertained any doubt. But it must be remembered that similar demonstrations had taken place a week previously in London, in Manchester, and in Cork, and that not only did the authorities not interfere to prevent them, but that the prime minister declared in the House of Lords that they were not illegal. Lord Derby doubtless, intended to limit his observations to the violition of the Party Processions Act, without pronouncing any opinion as to the legality or illegality of the processions, viewed under another aspect, as seditious assemblies. But his language was calculated to mislead, and, as a matter of fact, was taken by the Fenian sympathisers as an admission that their mock funeral processions were not unlawful. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, however much to be deplored, that the disaffected portion of the population should have eagerly taken advantage of Lord Derby's declaration to make a safe display of their sympathies and of their strength. They were encouraged to do so by the toleration already extended towards their fellows in England and in Cork, as well as by the statement of the prime minister. Under these circumstances the prosecution of persons who took part in the Dublin procession, even as organisers of that proceeding, appears to us to be a matter of doubtful policy. Mr. John Martin, the leader of the movement, stands in a different position from his companions. They confined themselves to walking in the procession; he delivered an inflammatory and seditious speech, for which he alone is responsible, and which might have been made the subject of a separate proceeding against him. To do Mr. Martin justice, he showed no desire to shirk the responsibility he has incurred. At the police-court, yesterday, he frankly avowed the part he had taken in the procession, and offered to acknowledge the speech which he delivered on that occasion. If, however, the policy which dictated the prosecution be questionable, there can be no doubt at all as to the objectionable manner in which some of the persons engaged in it have acted--assuming the statement to be true that Mr. Sullivan, proprietor and editor of the _Nation_ newspaper, and Sir John Gray, proprietor of the _Freeman's Journal_, have been summoned as crown witnesses. Who is responsible for this extraordinary proceeding it is at present impossible to say. Mr. Murphy, Q.C., the counsel for the crown, declared that he did not intend to examine Mr. Sullivan; Mr. Anderson, the son of the crown solicitor, who appears to be entrusted with the management of these prosecutions, denied that he had directed the summonses to be served, and Mr. Dix, the magistrate, stated that he had not signed them. Tot Mr. Sullivan produced the summons requiring him to attend as a witness, and in the strongest manner denounced the proceeding as a base and cowardly attempt on the part of the government to imprison for contempt of court, a "national journalist" whom they dared not prosecute. Sir John Gray, ill less violent language, complained of an effort having been made to place some of the gentlemen in his employment in the "odious position of crown witnesses," and stated that he himself had been subpoenaed, but would decline to give evidence. We have not concealed our opinion as to the proper way of dealing with Mr. Sullivan. As the weekly disseminator of most exciting and inflammatory articles, he is doing much to promote disaffection and encourage Fenianism. In no other country in the world would such writing be tolerated for a day; and, assuredly it ought not to be permitted in Ireland in perilous and exciting times like the present. But if Mr. Sullivan has offended against the law, let him be proceeded against boldly, openly, and fairly. He has, we think, a right to complain of being summoned as a witness for the crown; but the government have even more reason to complain of the conduct of their servants in exposing them by their blunders to ridicule and contempt. It is too bad that with a large and highly-paid staff of lawyers and attorneys the government prosecutions should be conducted in a loose and slovenly manner. When a state prosecution has been determined upon, every step ought to be carefully and anxiously considered, and subordinate officials should not be permitted by acts of officious zeal to compromise their superiors and bring discredit on the administration of the law.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    As you pass through Dublin, you are in the city where, in 1867, newspapers tore into the government's handling of a police-court prosecution. The case was against the organisers of a Fenian funeral procession held on Sunday the 8th of December, honouring the men executed at Manchester for murder. Saunders's News-Letter, the Irish Times, and the Daily Express all called the prosecution bungled and self-defeating, and the problems ran deep. Similar demonstrations had already taken place in London, Manchester, and Cork without interference, and Lord Derby had declared in the House of Lords that such processions were not illegal. That statement was taken by Fenian sympathisers as permission to proceed. At the police-court, Mr. John Martin, the leader of the movement, frankly avowed his part in the procession and the inflammatory speech he had delivered. But the real scandal was the summoning of Mr. Sullivan, proprietor and editor of the Nation newspaper, and Sir John Gray, proprietor of the Freeman's Journal, as crown witnesses. Sullivan produced his summons and denounced the proceeding as "a base and cowardly attempt" to imprison him for contempt of court. Sir John Gray stated he had been subpoenaed but would decline to give evidence. Nobody seemed willing to take responsibility. Mr. Murphy, Q.C., counsel for the crown, said he did not intend to examine Sullivan. Mr. Anderson, son of the crown solicitor, denied directing the summonses. Mr. Dix, the magistrate, said he had not signed them. The newspapers argued that if Sullivan had broken the law through his inflammatory writing, he should be prosecuted openly and fairly, not dragged in as a witness. The whole affair, they wrote, exposed the government to ridicule and contempt.

33. Crowds Visit M'Manus's Grave at Glasnevin

    near Glasnevin Cemetery · graveyard cemetery burial ground · Dublin · 1867

    After his speech, Martin and a large body of processionists walked to the grave of Terence Bellew M'Manus within Glasnevin Cemetery, where the crowds circled the grave as a mark of respect.

    Read the passage

    At the conclusion of his address, Mr. Martin, accompanied by a large body of the processionists, proceeded to the cemetery, where Mr. Martin visited the grave of Terence Bellew M'Manus. The crowds walked around the grave as a mark of respect for the memory of M'Manus. Mr. Martin left the cemetery soon after, end went to his carriage; the people gathered about him and thanked him, and cheered him loudly. The vast assemblage dispersed in the most orderly and peaceful manner, and returned to their homes. They had suffered much from the severity of the day, but they exhibited to the end the most creditable endurance and patience. In the course of an hour the roads were cleared and the city soon resumed its wonted quiet aspect.[Footnote: In consequence of some vile misstatements in the government press, which represented the crowd to have not only behaved recklessly, but to have done considerable damaged to the graves, tombs, shrubs, and fences in the cemetery, Mr. Coyle, secretary to the Cemetery Board, published in the _Freeman_ an official contradiction, stating that not one sixpence worth of damage had been done. It is furthermore worthy of note, that at the city police offices next morning not one case arising out of the procession was before the magistrates, and the charges for drunkenness were one-fourth below the average on Mondays!]

    Of the numbers in the procession "An Eye-witness," writing in the _Freeman_, says:--

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    In 1867, somewhere about Glasnevin Cemetery, crowds came to visit the grave of Terence Bellew M'Manus. After Mr. Martin finished his address, he and a large body of processionists walked to the cemetery, where Martin visited M'Manus's grave. The crowds walked around it as a mark of respect. Martin left soon after for his carriage, and the people gathered around him, thanking him and cheering loudly. The vast assemblage dispersed in the most orderly and peaceful manner and returned home, having suffered much from the severity of the day but showing what the source calls "the most creditable endurance and patience." Within an hour the roads were cleared and the city resumed its quiet. The government press had claimed the crowd behaved recklessly and damaged graves, tombs, shrubs, and fences, but the Cemetery Board secretary published an official contradiction stating that not one sixpence worth of damage had been done. The next morning, no cases arising from the procession were before the magistrates, and charges for drunkenness were one-fourth below the average.

34. Procession concludes at the M'Manus grave in Glasnevin Cemetery

    near Glasnevin Cemetery · graveyard cemetery burial ground · Dublin · 1867

    The vast procession finally passed through the gates of Glasnevin Cemetery and along the pathways leading to the M'Manus grave, with bands playing the Adeste Fidelis as thousands moved slowly forward.

    Read the passage

    Standing at the corner of Christchurch-place, a fine view could be had of the procession as it approached Winetavern-street from High-street. The compact mass moved on at a regular pace, while from the windows on either side of the streets the well-dressed citizens, who preferred to witness the demonstration from an elevated position rather than undergo the fatigues and unpleasantness of a walk through the city in such weather, eagerly watched the approach of the procession. Under the guidance of the horsemen and those whose wands showed it was their duty to marshal the immense throng, the procession moved at an orderly pace down Winetavern-street, which, spacious as it is, was in a few minutes absolutely filled with the vast crowds. The procession again reached the quays, and moved along Wood-quay and Essex-quay, and into Parliament-street, which it reached at twenty minutes to two o'clock. Passing down Parliament-street, and approaching the O'Connell statue, a number of persons began to cheer, but this was promptly suppressed by the leaders, who galloped in advance for some distance with a view to the preservation of the mournful silence that had prevailed. This was strictly enjoined, and the instruction was generally observed by the processionists. The reverential manner in which the many thousands of the people passed the statue of the Liberator was very observable. A rather heavy rain was falling at the time, yet there were thousands who uncovered their heads as they looked up to the statue which expressed the noble attitude and features of O'Connell. As the procession moved along through Dame-street the footways became blocked up, and lines of cabs took up places in the middle of the carriageway, and the police exercised a wise discretion in preventing vehicles from the surrounding streets driving in amongst the crowds. By this means the danger of serious accident was prevented without any public inconvenience being occasioned, as a line parallel to that which the procession was taking was kept clear for all horse conveyances. Owing to the hour growing late, and a considerable distance still to be gone over, the procession moved at a quick pace. In anticipation of its arrival great crowds collected in the vicinity of the Bank of Ireland and Trinity College, where the _cortege_ was kept well together, notwithstanding the difficulty of such a vast mass passing on through the heart of the city filled at this point with immense masses of spectators. Oil passing the old Parliament-house numbers of men in the procession took of their hats, but the disposition to cheer was suppressed, as it was at several other points along the route. Turning down Westmoreland-street, the procession, marshalled by Dr. Waters on horseback, passed slowly along between the thick files of people on each side, most of whom displayed the mourning and national symbols, black and green. The spacious thoroughfare in a few minutes was filled with the dense array, which in close compact ranks pressed on, the women, youths, and children, bearing bravely the privations of the day, the bands preceding and following the hearses playing the Dead March, the solemn notes filling the air with mournful cadence. The windows of the houses on each side of the street were filled with groups of spectators of the strange and significant spectacle below. With the dark masses of men, broken at intervals by the groups of females and children, still stretched lengthily in the rere, the first section of the procession crossed Carlisle-bridge, the footways and parapets of which were thronged with people, nearly all of whom wore the usual tokens of sympathy. Passing the bridge, a glance to the right, down the river, revealed the fact that the ships, almost without exception, had their flags flying half mast high, and that the rigging of several were filled with seamen, who chose this elevated position to get a glimpse of the procession as it emerged into Sackville-street. Here the sight was imposing. A throng of spectators lined each side of the magnificent thoroughfare, and the lofty houses had their windows on each side occupied with spectators. Pressing onwards with measured, steady pace, regardless of the heavy rain, the cold wind, and the gloomy sky, the procession soon filled Sackville-street from end to end with its dense dark mass, which stretching away over Carlisle-bridge, seemed motionless in the distance. The procession defiled to the left of the site of the O'Connell monument at the head of the street, and the national associations connected with this spot was acknowledged by the large numbers of the processionists, who, with uncovered heads, marched past, some expressing their feelings with a subdued cheer. The foremost ranks were nearing Glasnevin when the first of the hearses entered Sackville-street, which, at this moment, held a numberless throng of people, processionists, and spectators, the latter, as at all the other points of the route, exhibiting prominently the sable and green emblems, which evidenced their approval of the demonstration. The hearses slowly passed along, followed by the mourning carriages, the bands playing alternately "Adeste Fidelis" and the "Dead March," and then followed the deep column of the processionists, still marching onwards with unflagging spirit, thousands seeming to be thoroughly soaked with the rain, which was falling all the morning. Sackville-street was perhaps the best point from which to get a correct notion of the enormous length of the procession, and of the great numbers that accompanied it on its way without actually entering the ranks. The base of the Nelson monument was covered with spectators, and at the corners of Earl-street and Henry-street there were stationary crowds, who chose these positions to get a good view of the great display as it progressed towards Cavendish-row. Through this comparatively narrow thoroughfare the procession passed along into North Frederick-street and Blessington-street, and thence by Upper Berkeley-street to the Circular-road. Along this part of the route there were crowds of spectators, male and female, most of whom wore the crape, and green ribbons, all hurrying forward to the cemetery, the last stage of the long and fatiguing journey of the procession. As the first part of the array passed the Mater Misericordiæ Hospital, and came in sight of the Mountjoy Prison, they gave a cheer, which was caught up by those behind, and as file after file passed the prison the cheers were repeated. With unbroken and undiminished ranks the procession pressed on towards Glasnevin; but when the head had reached the cemetery, the closing section must have been far away in the city. The first part of the procession halted outside the gate of the cemetery, the spacious area in front of which was in a few moments completely filled by the dense masses who came up. A move then became necessary, and accordingly the procession recommenced its journey by passing through the open gates of the cemetery down the pathways leading to the M'Manus grave, followed by some of the bands playing the "Adeste Fidelis." As fast as the files passed through others marched up, and when, after some time the carriage containing Mr. John Martin arrived, the open ground fronting the cemetery was one enormous mass of the processionists, while behind on the road leading up to this point thousands were to be seen moving slowly forward to the strains of the "Dead March," given out by the bands immediately in front of the hearses.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 2

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about Glasnevin Cemetery, the procession came to its end in 1867. Through the city it had come, a vast dark mass moving in steady ranks through the rain. The people wore black and green. The bands played the Dead March and Adeste Fidelis, the solemn notes filling the air. At the O'Connell statue on Parliament Street, mournful silence was strictly enjoined. The leaders galloped ahead to suppress any cheering. Thousands uncovered their heads as they passed the statue in the heavy rain. On the river, ships flew their flags at half mast, and seamen watched from the rigging. Through Sackville-street the procession filled the thoroughfare from end to end. The hearses moved slowly, followed by mourning carriages, and behind them the deep column of thousands, soaked through by rain that had been falling all morning. Past the Mater Misericordiae Hospital and Mountjoy Prison, the crowd gave a cheer that was taken up by those behind. When the head of the procession reached the cemetery gates, the closing section was still far back in the city. The first ranks halted outside, filling the open ground. Then they moved again, passing through the gates and down the pathways leading to the M'Manus grave, the bands playing Adeste Fidelis. As fast as files passed through, others marched up to take their place. When the carriage of Mr. John Martin arrived, the ground in front of the cemetery was one enormous mass of processionists, and behind them on the road, thousands still moved slowly forward to the strains of the Dead March.

35. Procession Timed Passing the Four Courts

    Four Courts · site · Dublin · 1867

    An eyewitness calculated the length and size of the funeral procession by timing how long it took to pass the Four Courts in Dublin, estimating over 61,000 participants.

    Read the passage

    The procession took one hour and forty minutes to pass the Four Courts. Let us assume that as the average time in which it would pass any given point, and deduct ten minutes for delays during that time. If, then, it moved at the rate of two and a-half miles per hour, we find that its length, with those suppositions, would be three and three-quarters miles. From this deduct a quarter of a mile for breaks or discrepancies, for we find the length of the column, if it moved in a continuous line, to be three and a-half miles. We may now suppose the ranks to be three feet apart, and consisting of ten in each, at an average. The total number is therefore easily obtained by dividing the product of 3-1/2 and 5,280 by 3, and multiplying the quotient by 10. This will give as a result 61,600 which, I think, is a fair approximation to the number of people in the procession alone.

    Even in the columns of the _Irish Times_ a letter appeared giving an honest estimate of the numbers in the procession. It was signed "T.M.G.," and said:--

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 3

    As the companion tells it

    Right here, at the Four Courts in Dublin, an eyewitness watched a funeral procession pass and worked out its size. The procession took one hour and forty minutes to pass this point. He took that as the average time it would take to pass any given point, and deducted ten minutes for delays. He reckoned it moved at two and a half miles per hour, which would make its length three and three-quarters miles. From that he deducted a quarter of a mile for breaks and discrepancies, arriving at three and a half miles as the length of the column if it moved in a continuous line. He supposed the ranks were three feet apart, with ten people in each rank on average. Dividing the product of three and a half miles and 5,280 feet by three, then multiplying by ten, gave him 61,600 people. He called this a fair approximation to the number in the procession alone. A letter also appeared in the Irish Times giving an honest estimate, signed T.M.G.

36. Summons Served on John Martin at Kilbroney

    Kilbroney · townland · Down · 1867

    After the Dublin procession, police officers pursued John Martin to his home at Kilbroney and served him with a crown summons there on a Saturday evening, since he had already left Dublin.

    Read the passage

    Everybody knew what this proclamation meant. It plainly enough announced that not only would the further demonstrations be prevented, but that the Dublin processionists were to feel "the vengeance of the law"--that is the vengeance of the Manchester executioners. Next day the city was beset with the wildest rumours as to the arrests to be made or the prosecutions to be commenced. Everyone seemed to conclude of course that Mr. John Martin, Mr. A.M. Sullivan, and the Honorary Secretaries of the Procession Committee, were on the crown prosecutor's list; but besides these the names of dozens of gentlemen who had been on the committee, or who had acted as stewards, marshals, &c., at the funeral, were likewise mentioned. On Saturday it became known that late on the previous evening crown summonses had been served on Mr. J.J. Lalor, Dr. J.C. Waters, and Mr. James Scanlan, requiring them to attend on the following Tuesday at the Head Police Office to answer informations sworn against them for taking part in an "illegal procession" and a "seditious assembly." A summons had been taken out also against Mr. Martin; but as he had left Dublin for home on Friday, the police officers proceeded after him to Kilbroney, and "served" him there on Saturday evening.

    Beside and behind this open move was a secret castle plot so utterly disreputable that, as we shall see, the Attorney-General, startled by the shout of universal execration which it elicited, sent his official representative into public court to repudiate it as far as _he_ was concerned, and to offer a public apology to the gentlemen aggrieved by it. The history of that scandalous proceeding will appear in what follows.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 5

37. Accused sent for trial to Green-street Commission

    Green Street · street · Dublin · 1868

    Following the police-court hearings, the magistrates decided to send all the accused for trial at the next Commission at Green-street, opening 10 February 1868, with each required to enter recognizances of £500.

    Read the passage

    The magistrates reserved their decision till next day; so that there might be decent and seemly pause for the purpose of looking up and pondering the legal precedents, as the legal fiction would have it; and on next day, they announced that they would send all the accused for trial to the next Commission at Green-street, to open on the 10th February, 1868. The several traversers, however, were required to enter merely into their own recognizances in £500 each to appear for trial.

    In this police court proceeding the government, confessedly, were morally worsted--utterly humiliated, in fact. So far from creating awe or striking terror, the prosecution had evoked general contempt, scorn, and indignation. To such an extent was this fact recognised, that the government journals themselves, as we have seen, were amongst the loudest in censuring the whole proceeding, and in supporting the general expectation that there was an end of the prosecution.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Along here on Green Street, the accused in the prosecuted funeral procession case were sent for trial. After the police-court hearings, the magistrates decided to send all of them to the next Commission at Green-street, opening on 10 February 1868. Each was required to enter into their own recognizances of £500 to appear for trial. The government was, in the words of the source,

38. Planned Sympathy Demonstration in Killarney Led by The O'Donoghue

    Killarney · townland · Kerry · 1867

    A demonstration in Killarney similar to the Dublin funeral procession was announced for the following Sunday, with preparations directed by and the procession to be led by the M.P. known as The O'Donoghue.

    Read the passage

    What was to be done? For the next ensuing Sunday similar demonstrations were announced in Killarney, Kilkenny, Drogheda, Ennis, Clonmel, Queenstown, Youghal, and Fermoy--the preparations in the first named town being under the direction of, and the procession about to be led by, a member of parliament, one of the most distinguished and influential of the Irish popular representatives--The O'Donoghue. What was to be done? Obviously, as the men had been hanged, there could be no halting halfway now. Having gone so far, the government seemed to feel that it must need go the whole way, and choke off, at all hazards, these inconvenient, these damnatory public protests. No man must be allowed to speak the Unutterable Words, which, like the handwriting on the wall in the banquetting hall of Belshazzar, seemed ever to be appearing before the affrighted consciences of Ireland's rulers. Be it right or be it wrong, be it justice or be it murder, the act must now be upheld--in fact, must not be alluded to. There must be _silence_ by law, on what had been done beneath the Manchester gallows-tree.

    But here there presented itself a difficulty. Before the government had any idea that the public revulsion would become so alarmingly extensive, the responsible ministers of the crown, specifically interrogated on the point, had, as we have seen, declared the funeral processions not to be illegal, and how, now, could the government interpose to prevent them? It certainly was a difficulty which there was no way of surmounting save by a proceeding which in any country constitutionally governed would cost its chief authors their lives on impeachment. The government, notwithstanding the words of its own responsible chiefs--_on the faith of which the Dublin procession was held, and numerous others were announced_--decided to treat as illegal the proceedings they had but a week before declared to be _not_ illegal; decided to prosecute the processionists who had acted on the government declarations; and decided to prevent, by sabre and cannon--by slaughter if necessary--the further processions announced in Killarney, Clonmel, Kilkenny, and elsewhere!

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 3

39. Attorney-General disclaims responsibility for witness summonses

    near Exchange Court · street · Dublin · 1867

    At the Head Police Office, Mr. Murphy, Q.C., stated on behalf of the attorney-general that the summoning of Sullivan and others as crown witnesses had been done without his authority, attributing it to police discretion.

    Read the passage

    Mr. Sullivan and some other gentlemen complained yesterday of having been served with summonses to give evidence in those cases. I am directed by the attorney-general to state that he regrets it, and that it was done without his authority. He never gave any directions to have those persons summoned, nor was it done by anyone acting under his directions. It occurred in this way. General directions were given to the police to summon parties to give evidence in order to establish the charge against those four gentlemen who are summoned for taking an active part in the procession. The police, in the exercise of their discretion thought it might be necessary to summon parties who took part in the procession, but there was no intention on the part of those aiding on behalf of the crown to summon parties to give evidence who themselves took part in the procession, and I am sorry it occurred.

    Mr. Dix--I may mention that a magistrate when signing a summons knows nothing of the witnesses. If they were all living in Jamacia he merely signs it as a matter of form.

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about Exchange Court in 1867, the Head Police Office heard a striking admission from Mr. Murphy, Q.C. Speaking on behalf of the attorney-general, he said that summonses served on Mr. Sullivan and other gentlemen, compelling them to give evidence, had been issued without the attorney-general's authority or direction. Murphy explained that general directions had been given to the police to summon witnesses in order to establish charges against four gentlemen accused of taking an active part in a procession. The police, exercising their own discretion, decided to summon parties who had themselves taken part in that procession. The attorney-general regretted it. Mr. Dix added that a magistrate signing a summons knows nothing of the witnesses, and would sign it as a matter of form even if they all lived in Jamaica.

40. Second round of prosecutions served at Head Police Office

    near Exchange Court · street · Dublin · 1867

    On 28 December 1867, Sullivan, Bracken, Jennings of Kingstown, O'Reilly and others were served citations to appear at the Head Police Office to answer charges identical to those against Martin, Waters and Lalor.

    Read the passage

    On Saturday, 28th December, 1867--just as everyone in Ireland seemed to have concluded that, as the Conservative journals said, there was "an end of" the foolish and ill-advised funeral prosecutions--Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Bracken (one of the funeral stewards), Mr. Jennings, of Kingstown (one of the best known and most trusted of the nationalists of "Dunleary" district). Mr. O'Reilly, (one of the mounted marshals at the procession), and some others, were served with citations to appear on Monday the 30th, at the Head Police Office, to answer charges identical with those preferred on the 16th against Mr. Martin, Dr. Waters, and Mr. Lalor.

    Preliminary prosecution No. 2 very much resembled No. 1. Mr. Murphy, Q.C. stated the crown case with fairness and moderation; and the police, as before, gave their evidence like men who felt "duty" and "conscience" in sore disagreement on such an occasion. Mr. Jennings and Mr. O'Reilly were defended, respectively, by Mr. Molloy and Mr. Crean; two advocates whose selection from the junior bar for these critical and important public cases was triumphantly vindicated by their conduct from the first to the last scene of the drama. Mr. Sullivan, Mr. Bracken, and the other accused, were not represented by counsel. On the first-named gentleman (Mr. Sullivan) being formally called on, he addressed the court at some length. He said:--

    Project Gutenberg #12853, Chapter 6

    As the companion tells it

    Somewhere about Exchange Court stood the Head Police Office, where a second round of funeral prosecutions began in late December 1867. On Saturday the 28th of December, just as Conservative journals were declaring there was "an end of" the funeral prosecutions, citations were served on Mr Sullivan, Mr Bracken, one of the funeral stewards, Mr Jennings of Kingstown, one of the best known nationalists of the Dunleary district, Mr O'Reilly, one of the mounted marshals at the procession, and several others. They were ordered to appear on Monday the 30th to answer charges identical to those brought on the 16th against Mr Martin, Dr Waters and Mr Lalor. The second preliminary prosecution closely resembled the first. Mr Murphy, Q.C., stated the crown case with fairness and moderation, and the police gave their evidence like men who felt duty and conscience in sore disagreement. Mr Jennings and Mr O'Reilly were defended by Mr Molloy and Mr Crean, two junior barristers whose conduct vindicated their selection. Mr Sullivan, Mr Bracken and the remaining accused had no counsel, and when Sullivan was formally called on, he addressed the court at some length.