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Title: The Wearing of the Green
Author: Sullivan, A.M., 1830-1884
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Wearing of the Green" ***
[Transcriber's note: The spelling inconsistencies of the original are
retained in this etext.]
THE
"WEARING OF THE GREEN,"
_OR_
THE PROSECUTED FUNERAL PROCESSION.
* * * * *
Let the echoes fall unbroken;
Let our tears in silence flow;
For each word thus nobly spoken,
Let us yield a nation's woe;
Yet, while weeping, sternly keeping
Wary watch upon the foe.
_Poem in the_ "NATION."
DUBLIN:
A.M. SULLIVAN, ABBEY STREET.
1868.
THE
PROSECUTED FUNERAL PROCESSION.
* * * * *
The news of the Manchester executions on the morning of Saturday, 23rd
November, 1867, fell upon Ireland with sudden and dismal disillusion.
In time to come, when the generation now living shall have passed away,
men will probably find it difficult to fully realize or understand the
state of stupor and amazement which ensued in this country on the first
tidings of that event; seeing, as it may be said, that the victims had
lain for weeks under sentence of death, to be executed on this date. Yet
surprise indubitably was the first and most overpowering emotion; for,
in truth, no one up to that hour had really credited that England would
take the lives of those three men on a verdict already publicly admitted
and proclaimed to have been a blunder. Now, however, came the news that
all was over--that the deed was done--and soon there was seen such an
upheaving of national emotion as had not been witnessed in Ireland for a
century. The public conscience, utterly shocked, revolted against the
dreadful act perpetrated in the outraged name of justice. A great billow
of grief rose and surged from end to end of the land. Political
distinctions disappeared or were forgotten. The Manchester Victims--the
Manchester Martyrs, they were already called--belonged to the Fenian
organization; a conspiracy which the wisest and truest patriots of
Ireland had condemned and resisted; yet men who had been prominent in
withstanding, on national grounds, that hopeless and disastrous
scheme--priests and laymen--were now amongst the foremost and the
boldest in denouncing at every peril the savage act of vengeance
perpetrated at Manchester. The Catholic clergy were the first to give
articulate expression to the national emotion. The executions took place
on Saturday; before night the telegraph had spread the news through the
island; and on the next morning, being Sunday, from a thousand altars
the sad event was announced to the assembled worshippers, and prayers
were publicly offered for the souls of the victims. When the news was
announced, a moan of sorrowful surprise burst from the congregation,
followed by the wailing and sobbing of women; and when the priest, his
own voice broken with emotion, asked all to join with him in praying the
Merciful God to grant those young victims a place beside His throne, the
assemblage with one voice responded, praying and weeping aloud!
The manner in which the national feeling was demonstrated on this
occasion was one peculiarly characteristic of a nation in which the
sentiments of religion and patriotism are so closely blended. No stormy
"indignation meetings" were held; no tumult, no violence, no cries for
vengeance arose. In all probability--nay, to a certainty--all this would
have happened, and these ebullitions of popular passion would have been
heard, had the victims not passed into eternity. But now, they were gone
where prayer alone could follow; and in the presence of this solemn fact
the religious sentiment overbore all others with the Irish people. Cries
of anger, imprecations, and threats of vengeance, could not avail the
dead; but happily religion gave a vent to the pent-up feelings of the
living. By prayer and mourning they could at once, most fitly and most
successfully, demonstrate their horror of the guilty deed, and their
sympathy with the innocent victims.
Requiem Masses forthwith were announced and celebrated in several
churches; and were attended by crowds everywhere too vast for the sacred
edifices to contain. The churches in several instances were draped with
black, and the ceremonies conducted with more than ordinary solemnity.
In every case, however, the authorities of the Catholic church were
careful to ensure that the sacred functions were sought and attended for
spiritual considerations, not used merely for illegitimate political
purposes; and wherever it was apprehended that the holy rites were in
danger of such use, the masses were said privately.
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.
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.]
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."
Still more strong assurance was contained in the reply of the Irish
Chief Secretary, Lord Mayo, to a question put by Sir P. O'Brien in the
House of Commons. Lord Mayo publicly announced and promised that if any
new opinion as to the legality of the processions should be arrived
at--that is, should the crown see in them anything of illegality--_due
and timely notice would be given_ by proclamation, so that no one might
offend through ignorance. Here are his words:--
"It is the wish of the government to act strictly in accordance with
the law; _and of course ample notice will be given either by
proclamation or otherwise_."
The Dublin funeral committee thereupon at once issued the following
announcement, by placard and advertisement:--
GOD SAVE IRELAND!
A PUBLIC FUNERAL PROCESSION
In honour of the Irish Patriots
Executed at Manchester, 23rd November,
Will take place in Dublin
On Sunday next, the 8th inst.
* * * * *
The procession will assemble in Beresford-place, near the Custom
House, and will start from thence at the hour of twelve o'clock noon.
* * * * *
No flags, banners, or party emblems will be allowed.
* * * * *
IRISHMEN
Assemble in your thousands, and show by your numbers and your orderly
demeanour your sympathy with the fate of the executed patriots.
* * * * *
IRISHWOMEN
You are requested to lend the dignity of your presence to this
important National Demonstration.
By Order of the Committee.
JOHN MARTIN, Chairman.
J.C. WATERS, Hon. Secretary.
JAMES SCANLAN, Hon. Secretary.
J.J. LALOR, Hon. Secretary.
DONAL SULLIVAN, Up. Buckingham-street, Treasurer.
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.
Sunday, 8th December, 1867, dawned through watery skies. From shortly
after day-break, rain, or rather half-melted sleet, continued to fall;
and many persons concluded that there would be no attempt to hold the
procession under such inclement weather. This circumstance was, no
doubt, a grievous discouragement, or rather a discomfort and an
inconvenience; but so far from preventing the procession, it was
destined to add a hundred-fold to the significance and importance of the
demonstration. Had the day been fine, tens of thousands of persons who
eventually only lined the streets, wearing the funeral emblems, would
have marched in the procession as they had originally intended; but
hostile critics would in this case have said that the fineness of the
day and the excitement of the pageant had merely caused a hundred
thousand persons to come out for a holiday. Now, however, the depth,
reality, and intensity of the popular feeling was about to be keenly
tested. The subjoined account of this memorable demonstration is
summarised from the Dublin daily papers of the next ensuing publication,
the report of the _Freeman's Journal_ being chiefly used:--
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.
From an early hour in the morning every possible position along the
quays that afforded a good view of the procession was taken advantage
of, and, despite the inclemency of the weather, the parapets of the
various bridges, commencing at Capel-street, were crowded with
adventurous youths, who seemed to think nothing of the risks they ran
in comparison with the opportunities they had of seeing the great
sight in all its splendour. From eleven until twelve o'clock the
greatest efforts were made to secure good places The side walks were
crowded and impassable. The lower windows of the houses were made the
most of by men who clutched the shutters and bars, whilst the upper
windows were, as a general rule, filled with the fair sex, and it is
almost unnecessary to add that almost every man, woman, and child
displayed some emblem suitable to the occasion. Indeed, the
originality of the designs was a striking feature. The women wore
green ribbons and veils, and many entire dresses of the favourite
colour. The numerous windows of the Four Courts accommodated hundreds
of ladies, and we may mention that within the building were two
pieces of artillery, a plentiful supply of rockets, and a number of
policemen. It was arranged that the rockets should be fired from the
roof in case military assistance was required. Contrary to the
general expectation, the head of the procession appeared at
Essex-bridge shortly before twelve o'clock. As it was expected to
leave Beresford-place about that time, and as such gigantic
arrangements are seldom carried out punctually, the thousands of
people who congregated in this locality were pleasantly disappointed
when a society band turned the corner of Mary-street and came towards
the quays, with the processionists marching in slow and regular time.
The order that prevailed was almost marvellous--not a sound was heard
but the mournful strains of the music, and the prevalent feeling was
expressed, no doubt, by one or two of the processionists, who said in
answer to an inquiry, "We will be our own police to-day." They
certainly were their own police, for those who carried white wands
did not spare themselves in their endeavours to maintain order in the
ranks. As we have mentioned already, the first part of the procession
reached Capel-street shortly before twelve o'clock, and some idea of
the extent of the demonstration may be formed from the fact that the
hearses did not come in view until a quarter-past one o'clock. They
appeared at intervals of a quarter of an hour, and were received by a
general cry of "hush." The number of fine, well-dressed young women
in the procession here was the subject of general remark, whilst the
assemblage of boys astonished all who witnessed it on account of its
extent. The variety of the tokens of mourning, too, was remarkable.
Numbers of the women carried laurel branches in addition to green
ribbons and veils, and many of the men wore shamrocks in their hats.
The procession passed along the quays as far as King's-bridge, and it
there crossed and passed up Stevens'-lane. The windows of all the
houses _en route_ were crowded chiefly with women, and the railings
at the Esplanade and at King's-bridge, were crowded with spectators.
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.
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.
MR. MARTIN'S ADDRESS.
On the arrival of the procession at the cemetery Mr. Martin was
hailed with loud applause. It being understood he would make some
observations, the multitude gathered together to hear him. He
addressed the vast multitude from the window of a house overlooking
the great open space in front of the cemetery. On presenting himself
he was received with enthusiastic cheering. When silence was obtained
he said:--
"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.
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:--
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:--
I believe there was not fewer than 60,000 persons taking part in the
procession on Sunday. My point of observation was one of the best in
the city, seeing, as I could, from the entrance to the Lower Castle
Yard to the College Gates. I was as careful in my calculation as an
almost quick march would allow. There were also a few horsemen, three
hearses, and sixty-one hired carriages, cabs, and cars. A
correspondent in your columns this morning speaks of rows of from
four to nine deep; I saw very many of from ten to sixteen deep,
especially among the boys. The procession, took exactly eighty
minutes to pass this. There were several thousand onlookers within my
view.
Of the ladies in the procession the _Freeman's Journal_ bore the
following testimony, not more generous than truthful:--
The most important physical feature was not, however, the respectable
dress, the manly bearing, the order, discipline, and solemnity of the
men, but the large bodies of ladies who, in rich and costly attire,
marched the whole length of the long route, often ankle deep in mud,
utterly regardles of the incessant down-pour of rain which deluged
their silks and satins, and melted the mourning crape till it seemed
incorporated with the very substance of the velvet mantles or rich
shawls in which so many of the fair processionists were enveloped. In
vain did well-gloved hands hold thousands of green parasols and
umbrellas over their heads as they walked four and five deep through
the leading thoroughfares yesterday. The bonnets with their 'green
and crape' were alone defensible, velvets and Paisleys, silks and
satins, met one common fate--thorough saturation. Yet all this and
more was borne without a murmur. These ladies, and there were many
hundreds of them, mingled with thousands in less rich attire, went
out to cooperate with their fathers, brothers, and sweethearts in
honouring three men who died upon the ignominious gallows, and they
never flinched before the torrents, or swerved for an instant from
the ranks. There must be some deep and powerful influence underlying
this movement that could induce thousands of matrons and girls of
from eighteen to two and-twenty, full of the blushing modesty that
distinguishes Irishwomen, to lay aside their retiring characteristics
and march to the sound of martial music through every thoroughfare in
the metropolis of this country decked in green and crape.
The Dublin correspondent of the _Tipperary Free Press_ referred to the
demonstration as follows:--
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.
The _Ulster Observer_, in the course of a beautiful and sympathetic
article, touched on the great theme as follows:--
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.
This mighty demonstration--at once so unique, so solemn, so impressive,
so portentous--was an event which the rulers of Ireland felt to be of
critical importance. Following upon the Requiem Masses and the other
processions, it amounted to a great public verdict which changed beyond
all resistance the moral character of the Manchester trial and
execution. If the procession could only have been called a "Fenian"
demonstration, then indeed the government might hope to detract from its
significance and importance. The sympathy of "co-conspirators" with
fallen companions could not well be claimed as an index of general
_public opinion_. But here was a demonstration notoriously apart from
Fenianism, and it showed that a moral, a peaceable, a virtuous, a
religious people, moved by the most virtuous and religious instincts,
felt themselves coerced to execrate as a cowardly and revolting crime
the act of state policy consummated on the Manchester gibbet. In fine,
the country was up in moral revolt against a deed which the perpetrators
themselves already felt to be of evil character, and one which they
fain would blot for ever from public recollection.
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!
On the evening of Thursday, the 12th December, Dublin city was flung
into the most intense excitement by the issue of the following
Government Proclamation:--
* * * * *
BY THE LORD LIEUTENANT AND COUNCIL OF IRELAND.
A PROCLAMATION.
ABERCORN.
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:
And whereas meetings and processions of large numbers of persons have
been already held and have taken place in different parts of the
United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland under the like pretence,
at some of which, and particularly at a meeting and procession in the
city of Dublin, language of a seditious and inflammatory character
has been used, calculated to excite discontent and disaffection in
the minds of her Majesty's subjects, and to create ill-will and
animosity amongst them, and to bring into hatred and contempt the
government and constitution of the country as by law established:
And whereas the said intended meeting and procession, and the objects
of the persons to be assembled, and take part therein, are not legal
or constitutional, but are calculated to bring into hatred and
contempt the government of the United Kingdom as by law established,
and to impede the administration of justice by intimidation, and the
demonstration of physical force.
Now we, the Lord Lieutenant and General Governor of Ireland, by and
with the advice of her Majesty's Privy Council in Ireland, being
satisfied that such meetings and processions as aforesaid can only
tend to serve the ends of factious, seditions, and traitorous
persons, and to the violation of the public peace, do hereby caution
and forewarn all persons whomsoever that they do abstain from
assembling at any such meeting, and from joining or taking part in
any such procession.
And we do hereby order and enjoin all magistrates and officers
entrusted with the preservation of the public peace, and others whom
it may concern, to aid and assist the execution of the law, in
preventing the said intended meeting and procession, and in the
effectual suppression of the same.
Given at the Council Chamber in Dublin, this Twelfth day of
December, 1807.
RICHARD C. DUBLIN.
A. BREWSTER, C.
MAYO.
STRATHNAIRN.
FRED. SHAW.
R. KEATINGE.
WILLIAM KEOGH.
JOHN E. WALSH.
HEDGES EYRE CHATTERTON.
ROBERT R. WARREN.
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.
On Monday, 16th December, 1867, the Head Police Office, Exchange-court,
Dublin, presented an excited scene. The daily papers of the day report
the proceedings as follows:--
At one o'clock, the hour appointed by the summons, the defendants
attended in court, accompanied by their professional advisers and a
number of friends, including Alderman Plunkett, Mr. Butler, T.C.; the
Rev. P. Langan, P.P., Ardcath; A.M. Sullivan, T.C.; T.D. Sullivan,
J.J. Lalor, &c. Mr. Dix and Mr. Allen, divisional magistrates,
presided. Mr. James Murphy, Q.C., instructed by Mr. Anderson,
represented the crown. Mr. Heron, Q.C., and Mr. Molloy appeared for
J.J. Lalor. Mr. Crean appeared for Dr. Waters. Mr. Scallan appeared
as solicitor for J.J. Lalor and for Dr. Waters.
It was generally understood, on arrival at the Head-office, that the
cases would be heard in the usual court up stairs, and, accordingly,
the defendants and the professional gentlemen waited in the court for
a considerable time after one o'clock. It was then stated that the
magistrates would sit in another court down stairs, and all the
parties moved towards the door for the purpose of going there. Then
another arrangement was made, that the change would not take place,
and the parties concerned thereupon returned to their places. But in
a few minutes it was again announced that the proceedings would be in
the court down stairs. A general movement was made again by
defendants, by counsel, by solicitors, and others towards that court,
but on arriving at the entrances they were guarded by detectives and
police. The benches, which ought to have been reserved for the bar
and solicitors, and also for the press, were occupied by detectives,
and for a considerable time great difficulty was experienced in
getting places.
Mr. George M'Dermott, barrister, applied to the magistrates to assign
a place for the members of the bar.
Mr. Dix--I don't know that the bar, unless they are engaged in the
cases, have any greater privilege than anyone else. We have a
wretched court here.
Mr. M'Dermott said the bar was entitled to have room made for them
when it could be done.
Mr. W.L. Hackett--All the seats should not be occupied by policemen
to the exclusion of the bar.
Mr. Scallan, solicitor, who spoke from the end of the table,
said--Your worships, I am solicitor for one of the traversers, and I
cannot get near my counsel to communicate with him. The court is
filled with detectives.
Mr. Molloy--My solicitor has a right to be here; I want my solicitor
to be near me.
Mr. Dix--Certainly; how can men defend their clients if they are
inconvenienced.
An appeal was then made to the detectives who occupied the side bar
behind the counsel to make way.
Mr. Murphy, Q.C., said one was a policeman who was summoned. Mr.
Dix--The police have no right to take seats.
The detectives then yielded, and the professional gentlemen and the
reporters were accommodated.
Mr. Dix then called the cases.
Mr. Molloy--I appear with Mr. Heron, Q.C., on behalf of J.J. Lalor.
Mr. Crean--I appear for Dr. Waters.
Mr. John Martin--I appear on behalf of myself.
Mr. Crean--I understand there is an impression that Dr. Waters has
been summoned, but he has not.
Mr. Dix--If he appears that cures any defect.
Mr. Crean--I appear on his behalf, but I believe his personal
attendance is necessary.
Mr. Dix--Does anyone appear for Mr. Scanlan?
There was no answer.
Mr. Murphy, Q.C.--I ask whether Dr. Waters and Mr. Lalor appear in
court.
Mr. Molloy--My client Mr. Lalor, is in court.
Mr. Crean--I believe my client is not in court.
Mr. Murphy, Q.C.--I will prove the service of the summons against Dr.
Waters. If there is any defect in the summons it can be remedied. I
will not proceed against any person who does not appear.
Mr. Dix--Am I to take it there is no appearance for Dr. Waters or Mr.
Scanlan?
Mr. Crean--I appear for Dr. Waters. I believe he is not in court. It
was stated in the newspapers that he was summoned, but I am
instructed he has not been summoned at all.
Mr. Murphy, Q.C., then proceeded in a careful and precise address to
state the case for the crown. When he had concluded, and was about
calling evidence, the following singular episode took place:--
Mr. Dix--You only proceed against two parties?
Mr. Murphy--I shall only proceed against the parties who
attend--against those who do not attend I shall not give evidence.
Mr. John Martin--If I am in order I would say, to save the time of
the court and to save the public money, that I would be very glad to
offer every facility to the crown. I believe, Sir, you (to Mr.
Murphy) are the crown?
Mr. Murphy--I represent the crown.
Mr. Martin--I will offer every facility to the crown for establishing
the facts both as to my conduct and my words.
Mr. A.M. Sullivan--I also will help you to put up some one, as you
seem scarce of the accused. I have been summoned myself--
Mr. Dix--Who are you?
Mr. Sullivan--My name is Alexander M. Sullivan, and, meaning no
disrespect to either of the magistrates, I publicly refuse even to
be sworn. I was present at the funeral procession--I participated in
it openly, deliberately, heartily--and I denounce as a personal and
public outrage the endeavour to degrade the national press of this
country by attempting to place in the light of--
Mr. Dix--I cannot allow this. This is not a place for making
speeches. I understand you are not summoned here at all.
Mr. Murphy--He is only summoned as a witness.
Mr. Dix--When you (to Mr. Sullivan) are called on will be the time to
hear you, not now.
Mr. Sullivan--I ask your worship, with your usual courtesy, to hear
me while I complain publicly of endeavouring to place the editor of a
national journal on the list of crown witnesses in this court as a
public and personal indignity--and as an endeavour to destroy the
influence of that national press, whose power they feel and fear, but
which they dare not prosecute. I personally complain--
Mr. Murphy--I don't know that this should be permitted.
Mr. Sullivan--Don't interrupt me for a moment.
Mr. Dix--Mr. Sullivan wants to have himself included in the summons
and charge.
Mr. Murphy--That cannot be done at present.
Mr. Sullivan--With one sentence I will conclude.
Mr. Murphy--I don't intend to have you called as a witness--
Mr. Sullivan--It is an endeavour to accomplish my imprisonment for
contempt, when the government "willing to wound, afraid to strike,"
know that they dare not accuse me as a Fenian--
Mr. Dix--You are not here as a Fenian.
Mr. Sullivan--For a moment. Knowing well, your worship, that they
could not get in all Ireland a jury to convict me, to secure my
imprisonment openly and fairly, they do this. I now declare that I
participated in that funeral, and I defy those who were guilty of
such cowardice as to subpoena me as a crown witness (applause).
Mr. Crean--I perceive that my client, Dr. C. Waters, is now in court.
In order to facilitate business, I shall offer no further objection;
but, as a matter of fact, he was not summoned.
Then the case proceeded, the police giving their evidence on the whole
very fairly, and testifying that the procession was one of the most
peaceable, orderly, solemn, and impressive public demonstrations ever
seen in Dublin. Against Mr. Martin it was testified that he marched at
the head of the procession arm-in-arm with Mr. A.M. Sullivan and another
gentleman; and that he delivered the memorable speech at the cemetery
gate. Against Dr. Waters and Mr. Lalor it was advanced that they were
honorary secretaries of the funeral committee, and had moreover acted,
the former as a marshal, the latter as a steward in the procession. It
was found, however, that the case could not be closed that day; and
accordingly, late in the evening, the magistrates intimated that they
would adjourn over to next morning. Suddenly from the body of the court
is heard a stentorian voice:--
Mr. Bracken--I am summoned here as a crown witness. My name is Thomas
Bracken. I went, heart and soul into that procession (applause)--
Mr. Anderson, junior--I don't know this gentleman.
Mr. Bracken--I am very proud that neither you nor any one like you
knows me (applause).
Mr. Dix--I cannot hear you.
Mr. Bracken--I have been brought here as a crown witness away from my
business, and losing my time here.
Mr. Donal Sullivan--I am another, and I avow myself in the same way.
Several voices--"So am I."
Mr. Bracken--I want to know why I should be taken from my business,
by which I have to support my family, and put me before the eyes of
my countrymen as a crown witness (applause)? I went heart and soul
into the procession, and I am ready to do the same to-morrow, and
abide by the consequences (applause). It is curious that the
government should point me out as a crown witness.
Mr. Murphy--I ask for an adjournment till to-morrow.
Mr. Dix--It is more convenient to adjourn now.
Mr. Martin--I don't want to make any insinuations against the
gentlemen who represent the crown, nor against the police, but I
mention the fact, in order that they may relieve themselves from the
odium which would attach to them if they cannot explain it. This
morning a paragraph appears in one of the principal Dublin daily
papers, the _Irish Times_, in which it is said that I, John Martin,
have absconded; I must presume that the information was supplied to
that paper either by the crown representatives or by the police.
Mr. Murphy, Q.C.--It is right to state, so far as I am informed, that
an endeavour was made to serve Mr. Martin in Dublin. When the
summonses were issued he was not in Dublin, but had gone down to the
country, either to his own or the house of his brother, or--
Mr. Ross Todd, who sat beside Mr. Martin, here jumped up and said,
"To his own house, sir, to his own house"--
Mr. Murphy--Very well. A constable was sent down there, and saw Mr.
Martin, and he reported that Mr. Martin said he would attend
forthwith.
Mr. Dix--And he has done so?
Mr. Murphy--I have no other knowledge. It was briefed to me that Mr.
Martin said he would attend forthwith.
Mr. Martin--I am glad I have given the representatives of the crown
an opportunity of making that statement. But I cannot understand how,
when the representatives of the crown had the information, and when I
told the constables I would attend--as I have done at great
inconvenience and expense to myself--I cannot understand how a
newspaper should come to say I had absconded.
Mr. Murphy--I cannot understand it either; I can only tell the facts
within my own knowledge.
Mr. Molloy said it seemed very extraordinary that witnesses should be
summoned, and the crown say they were not.
Mr. Sullivan wished his summons to be examined. Did the magistrates
sign it?
Mr. Dix--Unless I saw the original I could not say.
Mr. J.J. Lalor--Sir John Gray has been summoned as a witness, too. It
is monstrous.
Sir John Gray, M.P.--I wish to state to your worship the unpleasant
circumstances under which I find myself placed. At an advanced hour
on Saturday I learned that the crown intended to summon as witnesses
for the prosecution some of the gentlemen connected with my
establishment. I immediately communicated with the crown prosecutor,
and said it was unfair towards these gentlemen to have them placed in
such an odious position, and that their refusal to act as crown
witnesses might subject them to serious personal consequences; I said
it would not be right of me to allow any of the gentlemen of my
establishment to subject themselves to the consequences of such
refusal, as I knew well they would all refuse. I suggested, if any
unpleasant consequences should follow, they should fall on the head
of the establishment alone (applause). I said "summon me, and deal
with me." I am here now, sir, to show my respect for you personally
and for this court; but I wish to state most distinctly that I will
never consent to be examined as a crown witness (applause).
Mr. Anderson, jun., here interposed.
Sir John Gray--I beg your pardon. I am addressing the bench, and I
hope I won't be interrupted. Some of my family are going to-night to
England to spend the Christmas with my son. I intend to escort them.
I will not be here to-morrow. I wish distinctly to state so. If I
were here, my respect for you and the bench, would induce me to be
present, but I would be present only to declare what I have already
stated, that I would not consent to be sworn or to give any evidence
whatever in this prosecution. I think it right to add that I attach
no blame whatever to the police authorities in this transaction. They
have, I am sure, performed their duty in this case with that
propriety which has always characterised their conduct. Neither do I
attach any blame to the crown prosecutor. I simply desire to state,
with the most profound respect for the bench and the court, that I
will not be a witness (loud applause).
Mr. Anderson--We don't intend to examine Sir John Gray, but I wish to
say that if the police believed any one could give important
evidence, it is a new proposition to me that it is an indignity upon
a man to summon him as a crown witness--
Mr. A.M. Sullivan--I say it is an indignity, and that the crown
solicitor should not seek to shift the responsibility on the police,
who only do what they are told.
Mr. Anderson--I am not trying to shift anything.
Mr. Sullivan--You are. You are trying to shift the responsibility of
having committed a gross indignity upon a member of parliament, upon
myself, and upon many honest men here.
Several persons holding up summonses said "hear, hear," and "yes."
Mr. Sullivan--This I charge to have been done by Mr. Anderson as his
base revenge upon honest men who bade him defiance. Mr. Anderson must
answer for this conduct. It is a vile conspiracy--a plot against
honest men, who here now to his face tell him they scorn and defy him
(applause).
Mr. Dix--I adjourn the case till one o'clock to-morrow.
The proceedings were then adjourned.
So far have we quoted from the _Freeman's Journal_. Of the closing scene
_Saunders's News-Letter_, grieving sorely over such a fiasco, gives the
following account:--
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:--
THE POLICE-COURT SCENE.
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?"
_Saunders's News-Letter_ of the same date dealt with the subject as
follows:--
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.
The Liberal-Conservative _Irish Times_ was still more outspoken:--
While all commend the recent action of the government, and give the
executive full credit for the repression by proclamation of
processions avowedly intended to be protests against authority and
law, it is generally regretted that prosecutions should have been
instituted against some of those who had taken part in these
processions. Had these menacing assemblages been held after the
proclamations were issued, or in defiance of the authorities, the
utmost power should have been exerted to put them down, and the
terrors of the law would properly have been invoked to punish the
guilty. But, bearing in mind the fact that these processions had been
declared by the head of the government--expressing, no doubt, the
opinion entertained at that time by the law officers of the crown,
that these processions were "not illegal"--remembering, too, that
similar processions had been already held without the slightest
intimation of opposition on the part of government; and recollecting,
also, that the proclamation was everywhere implicitly obeyed, and
without the least wish to dispute it, we cannot avoid regretting that
the government should have been advised, at the last hour, to
institute prosecutions of such a nature. Once, however, it was
determined to vindicate the law in this way, the utmost care should
have been taken to maintain the dignity of the proceedings, and to
avoid everything calculated to create annoyance, irritation, or
offence. If we except the moderate and very able speech of Mr.
Murphy, Q.C., there is no one part of the proceedings in the
police-court which merits commendation. Some of the witnesses utterly
broke down; opportunity was given for utterances not calculated to
increase respect for the law; and disloyal sentiments were boldly
expressed and cheered until the court rang again. Great and serious
as was the mistake in not obtaining an accurate legal opinion
respecting the character of these meetings at the first, and then
prohibiting them, a far greater mistake is now, we think, committed
in instituting _these retrospective prosecutions_. For this mistake
the law officers of the crown must, we infer, be held responsible.
Were they men of energy and vigour, with the necessary knowledge of
the world, they would not have suffered the executive to permit
processions first, and then prohibit them, and at the same time try
men for participating in what had been pronounced not to be illegal.
We exonerate the attorney-general from the error of summoning to give
evidence persons who openly gloried in the part they had taken in
these meetings. To command the presence of such witnesses was of the
nature of an offence. There was no ground, for instance, for
supposing that Mr. Sullivan would have played the informer against
the friends who had walked with him in the procession--such is not
his character, his feeling, or his sense of honour. The summoning of
those who had moved with, and as part of, the multitude, to give
evidence against their fellows, was not only a most injudicious, but
a futile expedient, and naturally has caused very great
dissatisfaction and annoyance. The circumstance, however, proves that
the prosecutions was instituted without that exact care and minute
attention to all particulars which are necessary in a case of this
kind.
Even the _Daily Express_, the, all-but subsidised, if not the secretly
subsidised, organ of the ultra-orange section of the Irish
administration, had to own the discomfiture of its patrons:--
Are our police offices to become a kind of national journals court?
Is the "national press of Ireland" then and there to bid for the
support immediately of the gallery, and more remotely of that portion
of the population which is humourously called the Irish Nation? These
speculations are suggested by a curious scene which took place at the
inquiry at the police office yesterday, and which will be found
detailed in another column. Mr. Sullivan, the editor of the _Nation_,
seized the opportunity of being summoned as a witness, to denounce
the government for not including him in the prosecution. He
complained "of endeavouring to place the editor of a national journal
on the list of crown witnesses in this court as a public and
personal indignity," and as an endeavour to destroy the influence of
the national press. It is certainly an open avowal to declare that
the mere placing of the name of the editor of a "national" journal
upon the list of crown witnesses is an unparalleled wrong. But Sir
John Gray was still more instructive. From him we learn that a
witness summoned to assist the crown in the prosecution of sedition
is placed in an "odious position." Odious it may be, but in the eyes
of whom? Surely not of any loyal subject? A paid informer, or
professional spy, may be personally odious in the eyes of those who
make use of his services. But we have yet to learn how a subject who
is summoned to come forward to assist the government fills an odious
position in the opinion of his loyal fellow-subjects. We should
rather have supposed him to be entitled to their gratitude. However
that may be, Sir John Gray came gallantly to the rescue of several
"gentlemen connected with his establishment," whom, he was informed,
the government intended to summon as witnesses. This, he knew, they
would all refuse. "I suggested, if any unpleasant consequences should
follow, that they should fall on the head of the establishment
alone." He called upon the authorities to summon him. We do complain
of our police-courts being made the scenes of open avowals of
determination to thwart, or, at least, not to assist the government
in their endeavours to prosecute treason and sedition. We can imagine
no principle on which a subject could object to assisting the crown
as a witness, which, if followed to its logical consequences, would
not justify open rebellion. It is certainly a dangerous doctrine to
preach that it is allowable, nay, even praiseworthy in a subject to
refuse to give evidence when called upon to do so by the crown. There
is a disposition too prevalent in this country to regard the law as
an enemy, and opposition to it, either by passive obstruction or
active rebellion, as a praiseworthy and patriotic act. Can we wonder
at this when we hear opposition to constituted authority openly
preached by the instructors of "the nation," and witness the
eagerness of the "national press" to free itself from the terrible
suspicion of coming to the assistance, even involuntarily, of the
government in its struggle with sedition and treason?
It was amidst such an outburst of vexation and indignation as this, even
from the government journals themselves, that the curtain rose next
morning on Act II. in the Head Police Office. A very unique episode
commenced the proceedings on this day also. At the resumption of the
case, Mr. Murphy, Q.C., on behalf of the crown, said:--
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.
Mr. A.M. Sullivan--I thank your worship and Mr. Murphy, and I think
it will be seen that had your worship not allowed me yesterday to
make the protest I did, the attorney-general would not have the
opportunity of making the disclaimer which it became the dignity of
the government to make. The aspect of the case yesterday was very
adverse towards Sir John Gray, myself, and other gentlemen. Although
my brother signed his name to the notice, he was not summoned as
principal but as a witness, but if necessary, he was determined to
stand side by side in the dock with Mr. Martin.
Mr. Allen--I am very glad of the explanation, because I was blamed
for allowing persons making speeches here yesterday. I think if a man
has any ground of complaint the sooner it is set right the better.
Mr. Sullivan--I have to thank the bench.
Mr. Allen--I am glad that a satisfactory arrangement has been come to
by all parties, because there is an objection entertained by some
persons to be brought into court as witnesses for the crown.
Mr. Sullivan--Especially a public journalist.
Mr. Allen--Quite so.
Mr. Heron then proceeded to cross-examine the witness.
It was elicited from the government reporter, that, by a process which
he called "throwing in the vowels," he was able to make Mr. Martin's
speech read sufficiently seditious. Mr. D.C. Heron, Q.C., then addressed
the court on behalf of Mr. J.J. Lalor; and Mr. Michael Crean, barrister,
on behalf of Dr. Waters. Mr. Martin, on his own behalf, then spoke as
follows:--
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).
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.
Not so however was it to be. The very bitterness of the mortification
inflicted upon them by their "roll in the dust" on their first legal
encounter with the processionists, seemed to render the crown officials
more and more vindictive. It was too galling to lie under the public
challenge hurled at them by Mr. Bracken, Mr. O'Reilly, and Mr. Sullivan.
After twelve days' cogitation, government made up its mind to strike.
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:--
Please your worship, had the officials of the crown adopted towards
me, in the first instance, the course which they have taken upon the
present occasion, and had they not adopted the singular course which
they pursued in my regard when I last appeared in this court, I
should trouble you with no observations. For, as one of the 50,000
persons who, on the 8th of December, in this city, publicly,
lawfully, and peacefully demonstrated their protest against what they
believed to have been a denial of law and an outrage on justice, I
should certainly waste no public time in this preliminary
investigation, but rather admit the facts as you perceive I have done
to-day, and hasten the final decision on the issues really knit
between us and the crown. What was the course adopted by the crown in
the first instance against me? They had before them, on the 9th, just
as well as on the 29th--it is in evidence that they had--the fact
that I, openly and publicly, took part in that demonstration--that
sorrowful and sad protest against injustice (applause). They had
before them then as much as they had before them to-day, or as much
as they will ever have affecting me. For, whatever course I take in
public affairs in this country, I conceal nothing, I take it
publicly, openly, and deliberately. If I err, I am satisfied to abide
the consequences; and, whenever it may suit the weathercock judgment
of Lord Mayo, and his vacillating law advisers, to characterise my
acts or my opinion as illegal, seditious, heretical, idolatrous, or
treasonable, I must, like every other subject, be content to take my
chance of their being able to find a jury sufficiently facile or
sufficiently stupid to carry out their behests against me. But they
did not choose that course at first. They did not summon me as a
principal, but they subpoenaed me as a witness--as a crown
witness--against some of my dearest, personal, and public friends.
The attorney-general, whose word I most fully and frankly accept in
the matter--for I would not charge him with being wanting in personal
truthfulness--denied having had any complicity in the course of
conduct pursued towards me; but where does he lay the responsibility?
On "the police." What is the meaning of that phrase, "the police?" He
surely does not mean that the members of the force, who parade our
streets, exercise viceregal functions (laughter). Who was this person
thus called the "police?" How many degrees above or below the
attorney-general are we to look for this functionary described as
"the police," who has the authority to have a "seditious" man--that
is the allegation--a seditious man--exempted from prosecution? The
police cannot do that. Who, then? Who was he that could draw the
line between John Martin and his friend A.M. Sullivan--exempt the
one, prosecute the other--summon the former as a defendant and
subpoena the latter as a crown witness? What was the object? It is
plain. There are at this moment, I am convinced--who doubts
it?--throughout Ireland, as yet unfound out, Talbots and Corridons in
the pay of the crown acting as Fenian centres, who, next day, would
receive from their employers directions to spread amongst my
countrymen the intelligence that I had been here to betray my
associate, John Martin (applause). But their plot recoiled--their
device was exposed; public opinion expressed its reprobation of the
unsuccessful trick; and now they come to mend their hand. The men who
were exempted before are prosecuted to-day. Now, your worships, on
this whole case--on this entire procedure--I deliberately charge that
not we, but the government, have violated the law. I charge that the
government are well aware that the law is against them--that they are
irresistibly driven upon this attempt to strain and break the law
against the constitutional right and liberty of the subject by their
mere party exigencies and necessities.
He then reviewed at length the bearing of the Party Processions Act upon
the present case; and next proceeded to deal with the subject of the
Manchester executions; maintaining that the men were hanged, as were
others before them, in like moments of national passion and frenzy, on a
false evidence and a rotten verdict. Mr. Sullivan proceeded:--
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--
Mr. Dix--I really cannot allow that language to be used in this
court, Mr. Sullivan, with every disposition to accord you, as an
accused person, the amplest limits in your observations. Such
language goes beyond what I can permit--
Mr. Sullivan--I, at once, in respect for your worship, retract the
word juggle. I will say the crown manipulates the jury.
Mr. Dix--I can't at all allow this line of comment to be pursued--
Mr. Sullivan--With all respect for your worship, and while I am ready
to use any phrase most suitable for utterance here, I will not give
up my right to state and proclaim the fact, however unpalatable, when
it is notoriously true. I stand upon my rights to say, that you have
all the greater reason to pause, ere you send me, or any other
citizen, for trial before a jury in a crown prosecution at a moment
like the present, when trial by jury, as the theory of the
constitution supposes it, does not exist in the land. I say there is
now notoriously no fair trial by jury to be had in this country, as
between the subject and the crown. Never yet, in an important
political case, have the government in this country dared to allow
twelve men indifferently chosen, to pass into the jury-box to try the
issue between the subject and the crown. And now, sir, if you send
the case for trial, and suppose the government succeed by the juries
they are able to empanel here, with 'Fenian' ticketed on the backs of
the accused by the real governors of the country--the Heygates and
the Bruces--and if it is declared by you that in this land of
mourning it has become at last criminal even to mourn--what a victory
for the crown! Oh, sir, they have been for years winning such
victories, and thereby manufacturing conspiracies--driving people
from the open and legitimate expression of their sentiments into
corners to conspire and to hide. I stand here as a man against whom
some clamour has been raised for my efforts to save my countrymen
from the courses into which the government conduct has been driving
them, and I say that there is no more revolutionary agent in the land
than that persecution of authority which says to the people, "When we
strike you, we forbid you to weep." We meet the crown, foot to foot,
on its case here. We say we have committed no offence, but that the
prosecution against us has been instituted to subserve their party
exigencies, and that the government is straining and violating the
law. We challenge them to the issue, and even should they succeed in
obtaining from a crown jury a verdict against us, we have a wider
tribunal to appeal to--the decision of our own consciences and the
judgment of humanity (applause).
Mr. Murphy, Q.C., briefly replied. He asked his worship not to decide
that the procession was illegal, but that this case was one for a
court of law and a jury.
On this occasion it was unnecessary for Mr. Dix to take any "time to
consider his decision." All the accused were bound over in their own
recognizances to stand their trials at the forthcoming Commission in
Green-street court, on the 10th of February, 1868.
The plunge which the crown officials had shivered so long before
attempting had now been taken, and they determined to go through with
the work, _a l'outrance_. In the interval between the last police-court
scene described above, and the opening of the Green-street Commission,
in February, 1868, prosecutions were directly commenced against the
_Irishman_ and the _Weekly News_ for seditious writing. In the case of
the former journal the proprietor tried some skilfully-devised
preparatory legal moves and manoeuvers, not one of which of course
succeeded, though their justice and legality were apparent enough. In
the case of the latter journal--the _Weekly News_--the proprietor raised
no legal point whatsoever. The fact was that when he found the crown not
content with _one_ state prosecution against him (that for the funeral
procession), coming upon him with _a second_, he knew his doom was
sealed. He very correctly judged that legal moves would be all in
vain--that his conviction, _per fas aut ne fas_, was to be
obtained--that a jury would be packed against him--and that consequently
the briefest and most dignified course for him would be to go straight
to the conflict and meet it boldly.
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.
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.
It was now very generally concluded that the government would be
satisfied with these convictions, and would not proceed with the funeral
procession cases. At all events, it was universally regarded as certain
that Mr. Sullivan would not be arraigned on the second or funeral
procession indictment, as he now stood convicted on the other--the press
charge. But it was not to be so. Elate with their success, the crown
officials thought they might even discard their doubts of a city jury;
and on Thursday morning, 20th February, 1868, John Martin, Alexander M.
Sullivan, Thomas Bracken, and J.J. Lalor,[A] were formally arraigned in
the _city_ venue. [Footnote A: Dr. Waters, in the interval since his
committal on this charge, had been arrested, and was now imprisoned,
under the Suspension of the _Habeas Corpus_ Act. He was not brought to
trial on the procession charge.]
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.
On their lordships, Mr. Justice Fitzgerald and Mr. Baron Deasy,
taking their seats upon the bench,
Mr. Smartt (deputy clerk of the crown) called upon John Martin,
Alexander M. Sullivan, John J. Lalor, and Thomas Bracken, to come and
appear as they were bound to do in discharge of their recognizances.
All the traversers answered.
Mr. Smartt then proceeded to arraign the traversers under an
indictment charging in the first count--"That John Martin, John C.
Waters, John J. Lalor, Alexander M. Sullivan, and Thomas Bracken,
being malicious, seditious, and ill-disposed persons, and intending
to disturb the peace and tranquillity of the realm, and to excite
discontent and disaffection, and to excite the subjects of our Lady
the Queen in Ireland to hatred and dislike of the government, the
laws, and the administration of the laws of this realm, on the 8th
day of December, in the year of our Lord, 1867, unlawfully did
assemble and meet together with divers other persons, amounting to a
large number--to wit, fifteen thousand persons--for the purpose of
exciting discontent and disaffection, and for the purpose of exciting
her Majesty's subjects in Ireland to hatred of her government and the
laws of this realm, in contempt of our Lady the Queen, in open
violation of the laws of this realm, and against the peace of our
Lady the Queen, her crown and dignity." The second count charged that
the defendants intended "to cause it to be believed that the three
men who had been duly tried, found guilty, and sentenced, according
to law, for murder, at Manchester, in England, had been illegally and
unjustly executed; and to excite hatred, dislike, and disaffection
against the administration of justice, and the laws of this realm,
for and in respect of the execution of the said three men." A third
count charged the publication at the unlawful assembly laid in the
first and second counts of the false and seditious words contained in
Mr. John Martin's speech. A fourth and last count was framed under
the Party Processions' Act, and charged that the defendants "did
unlawfully meet, assemble, and parade together, and were present at
and did join in a procession with divers others, and did bear, wear,
and have amongst them in said procession certain emblems and symbols,
the display whereof was calculated to and did tend to provoke
animosity between different classes of her Majesty's subjects,
against the form of the statute in such case made and provided, and
against the peace of our Lady the Queen, her crown and dignity."
The traversers severally pleaded not guilty.
The Attorney-General, the Solicitor-General, Dr. Ball, Q.C.; Mr.
Charles Shaw, Q.C.; Mr. James Murphy, Q.C.; Mr. R.H. Owen, Q.C.; and
Mr. Edward Beytagh, instructed by Mr. Anderson, Crown Solicitor,
appeared to prosecute.
Mr. Martin, Mr. Sullivan, and Mr. Bracken were not professionally
assisted.
Mr. Michael T. Crean, instructed by Mr. John T. Scallan, appeared for
Mr. Lalor.
And now came the critical stage of the case. _Would the crown pack the
jury?_ The clerk of the crown began to call the panel, when--
John Keegan was called and ordered to stand by on the part of the
crown.
Mr. Sullivan--My lord, have I any right to challenge?
Mr. Justice Fitzgerald--You have Mr. Sullivan, for cause.
Mr. Sullivan--And can the crown order a juror to stand by without a
cause assigned?
Mr. Justice Fitzgerald--The crown has a right to exercise that
privilege.
Mr. Sullivan--Well, I will exercise no challenge, for cause or
without cause. Let the crown select a jury now as it pleases.
Subsequently George M'Cartney was called, and directed to stand by.
Patrick Ryan was also ordered to stand by.
Mr. Martin--I protest against this manner of selecting a jury. I do
so publicly.
J.J. Lalor--I also protest against it.
Thomas Bracken--And I also.
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.
WILLIAM DOWNES GRIFFITH.
EDWARD GATCHELL.
THOMAS MAXWELL HUTTON.
MAURICE KERR.
WILLIAM LONGFIELD.
JOSEPH PURSER.
THOMAS PAUL.
JAMES REILLY.
JOHN GEORGE SHIELS.
WILLIAM O'BRIEN SMYTH.
GEORGE WALSH.
The Solicitor-General, Mr. Harrison, stated the case for the
prosecution. Next the police repeated their evidence--their description
of the procession--as given before the magistrates, and the government
short-hand writer proved Mr. Martin's speech. The only witnesses now
produced who had not testified at the preliminary stage were a
Manchester policeman named Seth Bromley, who had been one of the van
escort on the day of the rescue, and the degraded and infamous crown
spy, Corridon. The former--eager as a beagle on the scent to run down
the prey before him--left the table amidst murmurs of derision and
indignation evoked by his over-eagerness on his direct examination, and
his "fencing" and evasion on cross-examination. The spy Corridon was
produced "to prove the existence of the Fenian conspiracy." Little
notice was taken of him. Mr. Crean asked him barely a trivial question
or two. Mr. Martin and Mr. Sullivan, when asked if they desired to
cross-examine him, replied silently by gestures of loathing; and the
wretch left the table--crawled from it--like a crippled murderer from
the scene of his crime.
This closed the case for the crown, and Mr. Crean, counsel for Mr.
Lalor, rose to address the jury on behalf of his client. His speech was
argumentative, terse, forcible, and eloquent; and seemed to please and
astonish not only the auditors but the judges themselves, who evidently
had not looked for so much ability and vigour in the young advocate
before them. Although the speeches of professional advocates do not come
within the scope of this publication, Mr. Crean's vindication of the
national colour of Ireland--probably the most telling passage in his
address--has an importance which warrants its quotation here:--
Gentlemen, it is attempted in this case to make the traversers
amenable under the Party Processions' Act, because those in the
procession wore green ribbons. Gentlemen, this is the first time, in
the history of Irish State Prosecutions which mark the periods of
gloom and peril in this country, that the wearing of a green ribbon
has been formally indicted; and I may say it is no good sign of the
times that an offence which has been hitherto unknown to the law
should now crop up for the first time in this year of grace, one
thousand eight hundred and sixty-eight. Not even in the worst days of
Lord Castlereagh's ill-omened regime was such an attempt as this made
to degrade the green of Ireland into a party colour, and to make that
which has long been regarded as a national emblem the symbol of a
faction. Gentlemen, there is no right-minded or right-hearted
man--looking back upon the ruinous dissensions and bitter conflicts
which have been the curse and bane of this country--who will not
reprobate any effort to revive and perpetuate them. There is no
well-disposed man in the community who will not condemn and crush
those persons--no matter on what side they may stand--who make
religion, which should be the fountain and mother of all peace and
blessings, the cause of rancour and animosity. We have had,
unhappily, gentlemen, too much of this in Ireland. We have been too
long the victims of that wayward fate of which the poet wrote, when
he said:--
"Whilst our tyrants join in hate,
We never joined in love."
But, gentlemen, I will ask of you if you ever before heard, until
this time, that the green of Ireland was the peculiar colour of any
particular sect, creed, or faction, or that any of the people of this
country wore it as the peculiar emblem of their party, and for the
purpose of giving annoyance and of offering insult to some other
portion of their fellow-countrymen. I must say that I never heard
before that Catholic or Protestant, or Quaker or Moravian, laid claim
to this colour as a symbol of party. I thought all Irishmen, no
matter what altar they bowed before, regarded the green as the
national colour of Ireland. If it is illegal to wear the green, all I
can say is that the Constabulary are guilty of a constant and
continuing breach of the law. The Lord and Lady Lieutenant will
probably appear on next Patrick's Day, decorated with large bunches
of green shamrock. Many of the highest officials of the government
will do the same; and is it to be thought for one moment that they,
by wearing this green emblem of Ireland and of Irish nationality, are
violating the law of the land. Gentlemen, it is perfectly absurd to
think so. I hope this country has not yet so fallen as that it has
become a crime to wear the green. I trust we have not yet come to
that pass of national degradation, that a jury of Irishmen can be
found so forgetful of their country's dignity and of their own as to
brand with a mark of infamy a colour which is associated with so many
recollections, not of party triumphs, but of national glories--not
with any sect, or creed, or party, but with a nation and a race whose
children, whether they were the exiled soldiers of a foreign state,
or the soldiers of Great Britain--whether at Fontenoy or on the
plains of Waterloo, or on the heights of Fredericksburgh, have nobly
vindicated the chivalry and fame of Ireland! It is for them that the
green has its true meaning. It is to the Irishman in a distant land
this emblem is so dear, for it is entwined in his memory, not with
any miserable faction, but with the home and the country which gave
him birth. I do hope that Irishmen will never be ashamed in this
country to wear the green, and I hope an attempt will never again be
made in an Irish court of justice to punish Irishmen for wearing that
which is a national colour, and of which every man who values his
country should feel proud.
When Mr. Crean resumed his seat--which he did amidst strong
manifestations of applause--it was past three o'clock in the afternoon.
It was not expected that the case would have proceeded so far by that
hour, and Mr. Martin and Mr. Sullivan, who intended each to speak in his
own behalf, did not expect to rise for that purpose before next day,
when it was arranged that Mr. Martin would speak first, and Mr. Sullivan
follow him. Now, however, it was necessary some one of them should rise
to his defence, and Mr. Martin urged that Mr. Sullivan should begin.
By this time the attendance in court, which, during the
Solicitor-General's speech and the crown evidence, thinned down
considerably, had once more grown too great for the fair capacity of the
building. There was a crush within, and a crowd without. When Mr.
Sullivan was seen to rise, after a moment's hurried consultation with
Mr. Martin, who sat beside him, there was a buzz, followed by an anxious
silence. For a moment the accused paused, almost overcome (as well he
might have been) by a sense of the responsibility of this novel and
dangerous course. But he quickly addressed himself to the critical task
he had undertaken, and spoke as follows:--[Footnote: As Mr. Sullivan
delivered this speech without even the ordinary assistance of written
notes or memoranda, the report here quoted is that which was published
in the newspapers of the time. Some few inaccuracies which he was
precluded from correcting then (being a prisoner when this speech was
first published), have been corrected for this publication.]
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--
Solicitor-General--My lord, I must really call upon you--I deny that
I ever--
Mr. Justice Fitzgerald--Proceed, Mr. Sullivan.
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.]
"The Irish were denied the right of bringing actions in any of
the English courts in Ireland for trespasses to their lands, or
for assaults or batteries to their persons. Accordingly, it was
answer enough to the action in such a case to say that the
plaintiff was an Irishman, unless he could produce a special
charter giving him the rights of an Englishman. If he sought
damage against an Englishman for turning him out of his land,
for the seduction of his daughter Nora, or for the beating of
his wife Devorgil, or for the driving off of his cattle, it was
a good defence to say he was a mere Irishman. And if an
Englishman was indicted for manslaughter, if the man slain was
an Irishman, he pleaded that the deceased was of the Irish
nation, and that it was no felony to kill an Irishman. For this,
however, there was a fine of five marks payable to the king; but
mostly they killed us for nothing. If it happened that the man
killed was a servant of an Englishman, he added to the plea of
the deceased being an Irishman, that if the master should ever
demand damages, he would be ready to satisfy him."
That was the egg of English law in Ireland. That was the seed--that
was the plant--do you wonder if the tree is not now esteemed and
loved? If you poison a stream at its source, will you marvel if down
through all its courses the deadly element is present? Now trace from
this, its birth, English law in Ireland--trace down to this hour--and
examine when or where it ever set itself to a reconciliation with the
Irish people. Observe the plain relevancy of this to my case. I, and
men like me, are held accountable for bringing law into hatred and
contempt in Ireland: and in presenting this charge against me the
solicitor-general appealed to history. I retort the charge on my
accusers; and I will trace down to our own day the relations of
hostility which English law itself established between itself and the
people of Ireland. Gentlemen, for four hundred years--down to
1607--the Irish people had no existence in the eye of the law; or
rather much worse, were viewed by it as "the King's Irish enemie."
But even within the Pale, how did it recommend itself to popular
reverence and affection? Ah, gentlemen, I will show that in those
days, just as there have been in our own, there were executions and
scaffold-scenes which evoked popular horror and resentment--though
they were all "according to law," and not be questioned unless by
"seditionists." The scaffold streamed with the blood of those whom
the people loved and revered--how could they love and revere the
scaffold? Yet, 'twas all "according to law." The sanctuary was
profaned and rifled; the priest was slain or banished--'twas all
"according to law," no doubt, and to hold law in "disesteem" is
"sedition." Men were convicted and executed "according to law;" yet
the people demonstrated sympathy for them, and resentment against
their executioners--most perversely, as a solicitor-general,
doubtless, would say. And, indeed, the State Papers contain accounts
of those demonstrations written by crown officials which sound very
like the solicitor-general's speech to-day. Take, for instance, the
execution--"according to law"--of the "Popish bishop" O'Hurley. Here
is the letter of a state functionary on the subject:--
"I could not before now so impart to her Majesty as to know her
mind touching the same for your lordship's direction. Wherefore,
she having at length resolved, I have accordingly, by her
commandment, to signify her Majesty's pleasure unto you touching
Hurley, which is this:--That the man being so notorious and ill
a subject, as appeareth by all the circumstances of his cause he
is, you proceed, if it may be, to his execution by ordinary
trial of him for it. How be it, in case you shall find the
effect of his course DOUBTFUL by reason of the affection of such
as shall be on his jury, and by reason of the supposal conceived
by the lawyers of that country, that he can hardly be found
guilty for his treason committed in foreign parts against her
Majesty. Then her pleasure is you take A SHORTER WAY WITH HIM,
by martial law. So, as you may see, it is referred to your
discretion, whether of those two ways your lordship will take
with him, and the man being so resolute to reveal no more
matter, it is thought best to have no FURTHER TORTURES used
against him, but that you proceed FORTHWITH TO HIS EXECUTION in
manner aforesaid. As for her Majesty's good acceptation of your
careful travail in this matter of Hurley, you need nothing to
doubt, and for your better assurance thereof she has commanded
me to let your lordship understand that, as well as in all
others the like, as in the case of Hurley, she cannot but
greatly allow and commend YOUR DOINGS."
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--
We, too, had our day--it was brief, it is ended--
When a King dwelt among us--no strange King--but OURS.
When the shout of a people delivered ascended,
And shook the green banner that hung on yon towers,
We saw it like leaves in the summer-time shiver;
We read the gold legend that blazoned it o'er--
"To-day--now or never; to-day and for ever"--
Oh, God! have we seen it to see it no more!
(Applause in court). Once more the Irish people bled and sacrificed
for their loyalty to the throne and laws. Once more confiscation
devastated the land, and the blood of the loyal and true was poured
like rain. The English Fenians and the foreign emissaries triumphed,
aided by the brave Protestant rebels of Ulster. King William came to
the throne--a prince whose character is greatly misunderstood in
Ireland: a brave, courageous soldier, and a tolerant man, could he
have had his way. The Irish who had fought and lost, submitted on
terms, and had law even now been just or tolerant, it was open to the
revolutionary _regime_ to have made the Irish good subjects. But what
took place? The penal code came, in all its horror to fill the Irish
heart with hatred and resistance. I will read for you what a
Protestant historian--a man of learning and ability--who is now
listening to me in this court--has written of that code. I quote
"Godkin's History," published by Cassell of London:--
"The eighteenth century," says Mr. Godkin, "was the era of
persecution, in which the law did the work of the sword more
effectually and more safely. Then was established a code framed
with almost diabolical ingenuity to extinguish natural
affection--to foster perfidy and hypocrisy--to petrify
conscience--to perpetuate brutal ignorance--to facilitate the
work of tyranny--by rendering the vices of slavery inherent and
natural in the Irish character, and to make Protestantism almost
irredeemably odious as the monstrous incarnation of all moral
perversions."
Gentlemen, in that fell spirit English law addressed itself to a
dreadful purpose here in Ireland; and, mark you, that code prevailed
down to our own time; down to this very generation. "Law" called on
the son to sell his father; called on the flock to betray the pastor.
"Law" forbade us to educate--forbid us to worship God in the faith of
our fathers. "Law" made us outcasts--scourged us, trampled us,
plundered us--do you marvel that, amongst the Irish people, law has
been held in "disesteem?" Do you think this feeling arises from
"sympathy with assassination or murder?" Yet, if we had been let
alone, I doubt not that time would have fused the conquerors and the
conquered, here in Ireland, as elsewhere. Even while the millions of
the people were kept outside the constitution, the spirit of
nationality began to appear; and under its blessed influence
toleration touched the heart of the Irish-born Protestant. Yes--thank
God--thank God, for the sake of our poor country, where sectarian
bitterness has wrought such wrong--it was an Irish Protestant
Parliament that struck off the first link of the penal chain. And lo!
once more, for a bright brief day, Irish national sentiment was in
warm sympathy and heartfelt accord with the laws. "Eighty-two" came.
Irish Protestant patriotism, backed by the hearty sympathy of the
Catholic millions, raised up Ireland to a proud and glorious
position; lifted our country from the ground, where she lay prostrate
under the sword of England--but what do I say? This is "sedition." It
has this week been decreed sedition to picture Ireland thus.[C] Well,
then, they rescued her from what I will call the loving embrace of
her dear sister Britannia, and enthroned her in her rightful place, a
queen among the nations. Had the brightness of that era been
prolonged--picture it, think of it--what a country would ours be now?
Think of it! And contrast what we are with what we might be! Compare
a population filled with burning memories--disaffected, sullen,
hostile, vengeful--with a people loyal, devoted, happy, contented;
and England, too, all the happier, the more secure, the more great
and free. But sad is the story. Our independent national legislature
was torn from us by means, the iniquity of which, even among English
writers, is now proclaimed and execrated. By fraud and by force that
outrage on law, on right, and justice, was consummated. In speaking
thus I speak "sedition." No one can write the facts of Irish history,
without committing sedition. Yet every writer and speaker now will
tell you that the overthrow of our national constitution, sixty-seven
years ago, was an iniquitous and revolting scheme. But do you, then,
marvel that the laws imposed on us by the power that perpetrated that
deed are not revered, loved, and respected? Do you believe that that
want of respect arises from the "seditions" of men like my
fellow-traversers and myself? Is it wonderful to see estrangement
between a people and laws imposed on them by the over-ruling
influence of another nation? Look at the lessons--unhappy
lessons--taught our people by that London legislature where their own
will is overborne. Concessions refused and resisted as long as they
durst be withheld; and when granted at all, granted only after
passion has been aroused and the whole nation been embittered. The
Irish people sought Emancipation. Their great leader was dogged at
every step by hostile government proclamations and crown
prosecutions. Coercion act over coercion act was rained upon us; yet
O'Connell triumphed. But how and in what spirit was Emancipation
granted? Ah there never was a speech more pregnant with mischief,
with sedition, with revolutionary teaching--never words tended more
to bring law and government into contempt--than the words of the
English premier when he declared Emancipation must, sorely against
his will, be granted if England would not face a civil war. That was
a bad lesson to teach Irishmen. Worse still was taught them.
O'Connell, the great constitutional leader, a man with whom loyalty
and respect for the laws was a fundamental principle of action, led
the people towards further liberation--the liberation, not of a
creed, but a nation. What did he seek? To bring once more the laws
and the national will into accord; to reconcile the people and the
laws by restoring the constitution of queen, lords, and commons. How
was he met by the government? By the nourish of the sword; by the
drawn sabre and the shotted gun, in the market place and the highway.
"Law" finally grasped him as a conspirator, and a picked jury gave
the crown then, as now, such verdict as was required. The venerable
apostle of constitutional doctrines was consigned to prison, while a
sorrowing--aye, a maddened nation, wept for him outside. Do you
marvel that they held in "disesteem" the law and government that
acted thus? Do you marvel that to-day, in Ireland, as in every
century of all those through which I have traced this state of
things, the people and the law scowl upon each other? Gentlemen, do
not misunderstand the purport of my argument. It is not for the
purpose--it would be censurable--of merely opening the wounds of the
past that I have gone back upon history somewhat farther than the
solicitor-general found it advantageous to go. I have done it to
demonstrate that there is a truer reason than that alleged by the
crown in this case for the state of war--for unhappily that is what
it is--which prevails between the people of Ireland and the laws
under which they now live. And now apply all this to the present
case, and judge you my guilt--judge you the guilt of those whose
crime, indeed, is that they do not love and respect law and
government as they are now administered in Ireland. Gentlemen, the
present prosecution arises directly out of what is known as the
Manchester tragedy. The solicitor-general gave you his version, his
fanciful sketch of that sad affair; but it will be my duty to give
you the true facts, which differ considerably from the crown story.
The solicitor-general began with telling us about "the broad summer's
sun of the 18th September" (laughter). Gentlemen, it seems very clear
that the summer goes far into the year for those who enjoy the sweets
of office; nay, I am sure it is summer "all the year round" with the
solicitor-general while the present ministry remain in. A goodly
golden harvest he and his colleagues are making in this summer of
prosecutions; and they seem very well inclined to get up enough of
them (laughter). Well, gentlemen, I'm not complaining of that, but I
will tell you who complain loudly--the "outs," with whom it is
midwinter, while the solicitor-general and his friends are enjoying
this summer (renewed laughter). Well, gentlemen, some time last
September two prominent leaders of the Fenian movement--alleged to be
so at least--named Kelly and Deasy, were arrested in Manchester. In
Manchester there is a considerable Irish population, and amongst them
it was known those men had sympathisers. They were brought up at the
police court--and now, gentlemen, pray attentively mark this. The
Irish executive that morning telegraphed to the Manchester
authorities a strong warning of an attempted rescue. The Manchester
police had full notice--how did they treat the timely warning sent
from Dublin; a warning which, if heeded, would have averted all this
sad and terrible business which followed upon that day? Gentlemen,
the Manchester police authorities scoffed at the warning. They
derided it as a "Hirish" alarm. What! The idea of low "Hirish" hodmen
or labourers rescuing prisoners from them, the valiant and the brave!
Why, gentlemen, the Seth Bromleys of the "force" in Manchester waxed
hilarious and derisive over the idea. They would not ask even a
truncheon to put to flight even a thousand of those despised
"Hirish;" and so, despite specific warning from Dublin, the van
containing the two Fenian leaders, guarded by eleven police officers,
set out from the police office to the jail. Now, gentlemen, I charge
on the stolid vain gloriousness in the first instance, and the
contemptible pusilanimity in the second instance, of the Manchester
police--the valiant Seth Bromleys--all that followed. On the skirts
of the city the van was attacked by some eighteen Irish youths,
having three revolvers--three revolvers, gentlemen, and no
more--amongst them. The valour of the Manchester eleven vanished at
the sight of those three revolvers--some of them, it seems, loaded
with blank cartridge! The Seth Bromleys took to their heels. They
abandoned the van. Now, gentlemen, do not understand me to call those
policemen cowards. It is hard to blame an unarmed man who runs away
from a pointed revolver, which, whether loaded or unloaded, is a
powerful persuasion to--depart. But I do say that I believe in my
soul that if that had occurred here in Dublin, eleven men of our
metropolitan police whould have taken those three revolvers or
perished in the attempt (applause). Oh, if eleven Irish policemen had
run away like that from a few poor English lads with barely three
revolvers, how the press of England would yell in fierce
denunciation--why, they would trample to scorn the name of
Irishman--(applause in the court, which the officials vainly tried to
silence). [Footnote C: For publishing an illustration in the _Weekly
News_ thus picturing England's policy of coercion, Mr. Sullivan had
been found guilty of seditious libel on the previous trial.]
Mr. Justice Fitzgerald--If these interruptions continue, the parties
so offending must be removed.
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.)
The effect of this speech certainly was very considerable. Mr. Sullivan
spoke for upwards of two hours and forty minutes, or until nearly a
quarter past six o'clock. During the delivery of his address, twilight
had succeeded day-light; the court attendants, later still, with silent
steps and taper in hand, stole around and lit the chandeliers, whose
glare upon the thousand anxious faces below, seemed to lend a still more
impressive aspect to the scene. The painful idea of the speaker's peril,
which was all-apparent at first amongst the densely-packed audience,
seemed to fade away by degrees, giving place to a feeling of triumph, as
they listened to the historical narrative of British misrule in Ireland,
by which Irish "disesteem" for British law was explained and justified,
and later on to the story of the Manchester tragedy by which Irish
sympathy with the martyrs was completely vindicated. Again and again in
the course of the speech, they burst into applause, regardless of
threatened penalties; and at the close gave vent to their feelings in a
manner that for a time defied all repression.
When silence was restored, the court was formally adjourned to next day,
Friday, at 10 o'clock, a.m.
The morning came, and with it another throng; for it was known Mr.
Martin would now speak in his turn. In order, however, that his speech,
which was sure to be an important one, might close the case against the
crown, Mr. Bracken, on the court resuming, put in _his_ defence very
effectively as follows:--
My lords--I would say a word or two, but after Mr. Sullivan's grand
and noble speech of last evening, I think it now needless on my part.
I went to the procession of the 8th December, assured that it was
right from reading a speech of the Earl of Derby in the newspapers.
There was a sitting of the Privy Council in Dublin on the day before,
and I sat in my shop that night till twelve o'clock, to see if the
procession would be forbidden by government. They, however, permitted
it to take place, and I attended it fully believing I was right. That
is all I have to say.
This short speech--delivered in a clear musical and manly voice--put the
whole case against the crown in a nut-shell. The appearance of the
speaker too--a fine, handsome, robust, and well-built man, in the prime
of life, with the unmistakable stamp of honest sincerity on his
countenance and in his eye--gave his words greater effect with the
audience; and it was very audibly murmured on all sides that he had
given the government a home thrust in his brief but telling speech.
Then Mr. Martin rose. After leaving court the previous evening he had
decided to commit to writing what he intended to say; and he now read
from manuscript his address to the jury. The speech, however, lost
nothing in effect by this; for any auditor out of view would have
believed it to have been spoken, as he usually speaks, _extempore_, so
admirably was it delivered. Mr. Martin said:--
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.
Mr. Martin sat down amidst loud and prolonged applause.
This splendid argument, close, searching, irresistible, gave the _coup
de grace_ to the crown case. The prisoners having called no evidence,
according to honourable custom having almost the force of law, the
prosecution was disentitled to any rejoinder. Nevertheless, the crown
put up its ablest speaker--a man far surpassing in attainments as a
lawyer and an orator both the Attorney and Solicitor-General--Mr. Ball,
Q.C., to press against the accused that technical right which honourable
usage reprehended as unfair! No doubt the crown authorities felt it was
not a moment in which they could afford to be squeamish or scrupulous.
The speeches of Mr. Sullivan and Mr. Martin had had a visible effect
upon the jury--had, in fact, made shreds of the crown case; and so Mr.
Ball was put up as the last hope of averting the "disaster" of a
failure. He spoke with his accustomed ability and dignity, and made a
powerful appeal in behalf of the crown. Then Mr. Justice Fitzgerald
proceeded to charge the jury, which he did in his own peculiarly calm,
precise, and perspicuous style. At the outset, referring to the protest
of the accused against the conduct of the crown in the jury challenges,
he administered a keen rebuke to the government officials. It was, he
said, no doubt the strict legal _right_ of the crown to act as it had
done; yet, considering that this was a case in which the accused was
accorded no corresponding privilege, the exercise of that right in such
a manner by the crown certainly was, in his, Mr. Justice Fitzgerald's
estimation, _a subject for grave objection_.
Here there was what the newspaper reporters call "sensation in court."
What! Had it come to this, that one of the chief institutions of the
land--a very pillar of the crown and government--namely, _jury-packing_,
was to be reflected upon from the bench itself. Monstrous!
The charge, though mild in language, was pretty sharp on the
"criminality" of such conduct as was _imputed_ to the accused, yet
certainly left some margin to the jury for the exercise of their opinion
upon "the law and the facts."
At two o'clock in the afternoon the jury retired to consider their
verdict, and as the judges at the same moment withdrew to their chamber,
the pent-up feelings of the crowded audience instantly found vent in
loud Babel-like expressions and interchange of comments on the charge,
and conjectures as to the result. "Waiting for the verdict" is a scene
that has often been described and painted. Everyone of course concluded
that half-an-hour would in any case elapse before the anxiously watched
jury-room door would open; but when the clock hands neared three,
suspense intense and painful became more and more visible in every
countenance. It seemed to be only now that men fully realized all that
was at stake, all that was in peril, on this trial! _A conviction in
this case rendered the national colour of Ireland for ever more an
illegal and forbidden emblem_! A conviction in this case would degrade
the symbol of nationality into a badge of faction! To every fevered
anxious mind at this moment rose the troubled memories of gloomy
times--the "dark and evil days" chronicled in that popular ballad, the
music and words of which now seemed to haunt the watchers in the
court:--
"Oh, Patrick, dear, and did you hear
The news that's going round?
The shamrock is by law forbid.
To grow on Irish ground.
No more St. Patrick's day we'll keep--
His colour can't be seen,
For there's a bloody law again
The Wearing of the Green."
But hark! There is a noise at the jury-room door! It opens--the jury
enter the box. A murmur, swelling to almost a roar, from the crowded
audience, is instantly followed by a deathlike stillness. The judges are
called; but by this time it is noticed that the foreman has not the
"issue-paper" ready to hand down; and a buzz goes round--"a question; a
question!" It is even so. The foreman asks:--
Whether, if they believed the speech of Mr. Martin to be in itself
seditious, should they come to the conclusion that the assemblage was
seditious?
Mr. Justice Fitzgerald answers _in the negative_, and a thrill goes
through the audience. Nor is this all. One of the jurors declares there
is no chance whatever of their agreeing to a verdict! Almost a cheer
breaks out. The judge, however, declares they must retire again; which
the jury do, very reluctantly and doggedly; in a word, very unlike men
likely to "persuade one another."
When the judges again leave the bench for their chamber, the crowd in
court give way outright to joy. Every face is bright; every heart is
light; jokes go round, and there is great "chaff" of the crown
officials, and of the "polis," who, poor fellows, to tell the truth,
seem to be as glad as the gladdest in the throng. Five o'clock
arrives--half-past five--the jury must suavely be out soon now. At a
quarter to six they come; and for an instant the joke is hushed, and
cheeks suddenly grow pale with fear lest by any chance it might be evil
news. But the faces of the jurymen tell plainly "no verdict." The judges
again are seated. The usual questions in such cases: the usual answers.
"No hope whatever of an agreement." Then after a reference to the
Solicitor-General, who, in sepulchral tone, "supposes" there is "nothing
for it" but to discharge the jury, his lordship declares the jury
discharged.
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."
* * * * *
For one of the actors in the above-described memorable scene, the
victory purchased but a few hours safety. Next morning Mr. A.M. Sullivan
was placed again at the bar to hear his sentence--that following upon
the first of the prosecutions hurled against him (the _press_
prosecution), on which he had been found guilty. Again the court was
crowded--this time with anxious faces, devoid of hope. It was a brief
scene. Mr. Justice Fitzgerald announced the sentence--six months in
Richmond Prison; and amidst a farewell demonstration that compelled the
business of the court to be temporarily suspended, the officials led
away in custody the only one of the prosecuted processionists who
expiated by punishment his sympathy with the fate of the Martyred Three
of Manchester.
END.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Wearing of the Green" ***
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