RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 OF AN 
 
 IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE 
 
 AND OTHER REMINISCENCES 
 
 OF THE 
 
 SOUTH OF IRELAND 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY ROBERT ADDISON 
 
 (eokmeely oe the second dbagoon guaeds) 
 author oe 
 
 "who's who," "stories op indian life," "the diary oe a judge," 
 
 ETC, ETC. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 WARD AND LOCK, ELEET STREET 
 
 MDCCCLXII. 
 [The right of Translation is reserved^] 
 
 BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 ''W kstn'TTT HILL, MASS. 
 
KECOLLECTIONS 
 
 OF AN 
 
 IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
D'ft ' 
 
 m 
 
 Houston. 
 
 J«l LIBRARY 
 BOSTON COLLEGE 
 
 NOT AS A WORTHY TRIBUTE, 
 BUT AS A SINCERE TOKEN OP FRIENDSHIP, 
 THE FOLLOWING SLIGHT SKETCHES 
 
 JOHN HENRY LAW, ESQ. 
 
 OS VHHSTOHIE HOUSE. 
 BY HIS ATTACHED FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 2280 
 
L'ENVOI. 
 
 At a moment when the horrors of agrarian outrage , 
 and those of base assassination, threaten again to fill 
 the South of Ireland with just terror — when not only 
 has it been found necessary to send down a special 
 commission to inspire terror and promptly bring the 
 bloodthirsty offenders to justice ; but, above all, when 
 more than one grand jury have recorded their doubts 
 respecting the efficiency of the present police system, 
 it certainly cannot be an ill chosen opportunity to 
 place before the public some accounts of those mis- 
 deeds which at a former period disgraced and paralysed 
 the greater part of the province of Munster, and which 
 were then put down by the effective and strong exertions 
 of the local magistrates, many of whom still live, and 
 still possess the powers of their youth, powers which they 
 would doubtless display, if properly called on to exhibit 
 them. The gentlemen who now honourably hold the 
 commission of the peace in Limerick, Clare, and Tip- 
 perary, are men of undoubted courage, energy, and 
 intelligence. An appeal to them would at once arouse 
 them ; and though (perhaps from personal attachment) 
 I believe I never saw so clever, so wonderful an officer, 
 
viii 
 
 l'envoi. 
 
 both in the detection of crime and in the punishment 
 of it, as Thomas Phillips Vokes, yet I have no right 
 to do otherwise than to believe that there may be 
 many others now alive capable, if encouraged, of 
 equalling his, as yet, unrivalled powers. 
 
 His Excellency, ever on the spot where the interests 
 of Ireland call him, has made the opportunity of at- 
 tending the meeting of the Agricultural Society in the 
 South a pretext for addressing the landed gentry. He 
 has told them (and he doubtless believes it) that the 
 police are efficient, and do all that men can do. But 
 he does not attempt to disprove the one glaring fact, 
 that in making them mimic soldiers, they have be- 
 come the laughingstock of those whom they can now 
 no longer pursue in secrecy; or that in loading 
 them with a very heavy rifle and a long bayonet- 
 sword, they utterly destroy their activity and shackle 
 their motions ; and, above all, that the system of 
 reporting direct to the Castle in the first instance 
 destroj s every hope which would arise in the locality, of 
 instant aid in the detection of crime. If this be 
 doubted, let the impartial reader turn to the recent 
 case of Walsh, who wandered through the county for 
 several weeks with impunity, and was only brought in 
 to prison when he thought fit to surrender himself ; or 
 the still more disgraceful fact of the escape of Hayes 
 from a crowded hotel, and through a crowded town, 
 in the middle of the day, and in the sight of hundreds 
 of people. 
 
 I am not, however, going to write an essay on this 
 subject, though volumes might profitably be filled by 
 it, since the impunity which attends the horrible acts 
 
l'envoi. 
 
 ix 
 
 Committed in the South of Ireland is the true and real 
 source whence all the crimes of the ill-disposed portion 
 of the peasantry spring. I am only about to narrate 
 some few of the scenes which came under my per- 
 sonal observation many years ago when Limerick was 
 in its worst state. 
 
 I have, as far as possible, given real facts, but have, 
 generally speaking, suppressed all names and circum- 
 stances that could tend to wound the most sensitive 
 feelings. That I may have committed some errors it 
 is very possible, for the majority of the events occurred 
 some thirty years ago, and I now write from memory, 
 having never kept a diary. But I believe that on the 
 whole, making a trifling allowance for the necessary 
 embroidery with which every author ornaments his 
 works, these sketches will be found to be "strictly 
 true' 7 
 
 H, E. Addison, 
 
 Septemher, 1862, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 MY HERO 1 
 
 THE BIRD'S NEST, , ' 10 
 
 OUR COTTAGE NEAE LIMERICK 18 
 
 CARRICKSHOCK 28 
 
 A QUEER JOCKEY 44 
 
 THE TWO LOAVES . . . * 56 
 
 DANIEL o'CONNELL's ELECTION 63 
 
 INSPECTION OF CONSTABULARY 75 
 
 SIFTING EVIDENCE 81 
 
 THE TERRY ALTS 94 
 
 DARBY, DEAR 103 
 
 THE IRISH ELOPEMENT 113 
 
 THE FARRIER'S SHOP 125 
 
 THE THUNDERSTORM . . ' 130 
 
 THE IDIOT BOY 136 
 
 THE COLLEEN BAWN 142 
 
 RECEIVING RENTS 155 
 
 1 THE CHARMED BULLETS 168 
 
 THE VASES 176 
 
 A SLIGHT MISTAKE 179 
 
 THE THREATENING LETTER 187 
 
 THE PIG MARKET 194 
 
 TRIED AFFECTION 199 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 210 
 
xii 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 THE DEAD CAPTURE . . 
 
 A SPORTING ADVENTURE , 
 
 THE HANGMAN . . . . 
 
 PEASANT PRIDE . . . . 
 
 THE ABDUCTION . . . , 
 
 A DAY IN LIMERICK . . 
 
 DANGEROUS AFFINITY . . 
 
 THE SHERIFF'S SEIZURE • 
 FINAL WORD ON IRELAND 
 
RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 OF AN 
 
 IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE, 
 
 MY HERO. 
 
 The magistrate to whom I allude in the greater num- 
 ber of my sketches, was commonly known as Major 
 Yokes; not that he was a military man, but I believe 
 he was entitled, when the post of " police magistrate" 
 was first instituted, to bear this comparative rank in 
 the table of social precedence laid down as between civi- 
 lians and military men ; and hence almost all the officers 
 at first appointed police magistrates were thus desig- 
 nated. But as Major Vokes became better known and 
 more generally spoken of, his Christian name was 
 quoted, and Tom Yokes was the appellation by which 
 the most intelligent magistrate that ever graced the 
 Limerick (or any other) bench, became popularly known. 
 Thomas Phillips Yokes, of whom I now write, boasted 
 his descent from an old French family, spelling their 
 name in the same manner in waich a noble family of 
 the present day now write theirs ; and T. P. Yokes 
 always believed that by thus changing the spelling of 
 his name his grandfather, Sir Richard Yokes, had lost 
 a chance of obtaining a title, then, and still, extinct. 
 
 1 01 
 
2 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 But all this matters little to the reader, who probably- 
 only desires to learn the condition of the south of Ireland 
 some thirty or forty years ago, when Limerick, Clare and 
 Tipperary were in a state of decided insurrection — when 
 encounters daily took place between the soldiery and 
 the peasantry — and when the local magistrates, panic- 
 struck by the murder of several of their body, peti- 
 tioned the Government to grant them official aid. 
 
 At this time Yokes was an unpaid magistrate, resi- 
 dent on his small property, which he held under lease 
 from his relative, the Earl of Carberry. But his activity, 
 his fearless energy, had already drawn on him the 
 attention of the higher powers. A ruffian, styling 
 himself Captain Bock, had become the terror of the 
 county of Limerick ; and so fearful had been the deeds 
 that he had committed, that the faces of women and 
 children blanched at the mention of his name, and men 
 cared little to risk their lives in an attack on this bold 
 marauder even when supported by soldiers and police. 
 Vokes, however, rather laughed at their fears, and in- 
 effectually endeavoured, on more than one occasion, to 
 meet this terror of the neighbourhood face to face. In 
 some way or another his wish was always baulked, and 
 he failed to encounter him. 
 
 One evening in autumn, Mrs. Y. having business in 
 the city of Limerick, drove over there in her jaunting 
 car, accompanied by the wife of another magistrate, 
 the two husbands agreeing to accompany them on 
 horseback. At the instant, however, of starting, the 
 gentlemen were detained to transact some pressing 
 business, and as the ladies were unwilling to be over- 
 taken by the shades of night, they at once started, 
 
MY HERO. 
 
 3 
 
 their protectors promising soon to overtake them. So 
 away they went, the distance only being about seven 
 miles. 
 
 Vokes, after having discharged his portion of the 
 duty, found that his friend would be probably detained 
 an hour or two. So, mounting his horse, he galloped 
 on to overtake his wife, whom he believed to have 
 nearly reached the end of her journey. On arriving, 
 however, at a. short distance beyond Patrick's-well — a 
 village situated some five miles from Limerick — he 
 came up with his wife, who in an agony of fear related 
 to him the fact, that she and her companion had 
 just been stopped by two footpads and robbed of their 
 watches, rings, and purses ; and added, that while one 
 tall, fine-looking peasant, armed with a stout cudgel, 
 and a knife conspicuously stuck in his belt, had thus 
 rifled them of their property, the other robber had 
 presented a loaded blunderbuss at the head of the 
 driver, and compelled him to remain quiescent. 
 These facts the coachman (an old retainer) fully bore 
 out. 
 
 " Was he tall ? Had he very black hair, and a slight 
 cast in his eyeT abruptly demanded the Major. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but had we not better hasten on ?" 
 
 " Can you recollect — had he black stockings, and a 
 frieze coat V* earnestly demanded the husband, inatten- 
 tive to everything else. 
 
 " He had. But " 
 
 " Faith, there's no buts. Here, Tim, take my horse/' 
 throwing the bridle to the coachman. " Which way 
 did they take ?" 
 
 " Over that way. Sure, yer honor ! I see one of them, 
 
 1—2 
 
4 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 I do believe, yonder across the bog, going towards the 
 mountains. Faith, I think I could direct the police 
 after them," said the driver. But ere he had well 
 concluded his sentence, the magistrate had loudly ex- 
 claimed, " By Heavens, His he /" and leaping the dyke 
 beside the road, in the next instant he was seen rush- 
 ing across the field in the direction pointed out — only 
 turning round once to wave his hand, as an order to 
 his servant to continue his route into Limerick. 
 
 It is far beyond the powers of my pen to paint the 
 agony of the lady who thus, as she believed, saw her 
 husband rush recklessly into the jaws of death. It is 
 beyond the^graphic delineation of a mere narrator to 
 describe how earnestly she screamed after him. Suffice 
 it to say, that when she found her efforts to call him 
 back ineffectual, she proceeded into the city, and 
 waited on the authorities, who instantly sent out 
 parties of police and military to look after the bold 
 but imprudent magistrate, who had thus pursued the 
 object of his unceasing vigilance, the notorious Captain 
 Rock j for such the robber, from the description given 
 of him, was now believed to be. But all in vain. The 
 parties, one after another, returned, and that night 
 and the next day passed without any intelligence re- 
 specting the missing magistrate. He was already 
 mourned as a fresh victim to the lawless wretches who 
 then held the south of Ireland in terrorem. On the 
 second morning after the robbery had taken place, an 
 order was received by the police officer in Limerick, 
 to send four men to Patrick's-well station-house to re- 
 ceive a prisoner of importance. The order was signed 
 T. P. Yokes. All who heard of it expressed their 
 
MY HERO. 
 
 5 
 
 wonder at his escape. Several of the most influential 
 persons in the city accompanied the party out to the 
 village, where they found the worthy magistrate 
 stretched out in a deep sleep ; his clothes torn and 
 covered with mud, his face and hands unwashed and his 
 head uncovered, for his hat was gone. But even in his 
 slumbers he grasped tightly in his hand a loaded horse- 
 whip, the only weapon he had carried with him in 
 his perilous pursuit. The first echo of approaching 
 footsteps aroused him. He started up, and with a 
 cheerful smile at the alarmed countenances of his 
 friends, led them into the next room, where, guarded 
 by two policemen and bound by strong cords, sat a 
 prisoner, whom Vokes announced as Captain Rock, 
 the bold, the terror-striking brigand, known by this 
 soubriquet, his real name being Fitzmaurice. 
 
 Vokes seldom alluded to his deeds of daring, and it 
 was with difficulty the following facts were elicited 
 from him. It appeared that after an hour's severe 
 running, the magistrate came to a cottage where, from 
 certain indications, he found the robbers had partaken 
 of some drink. Convinced of this, he again set out on 
 his arduous pursuit. He came within sight of them, 
 and the lesser peasant, armed with a blunderbuss, 
 turned round and fired, but missed his aim. He then 
 threw away the arm, as it encumbered his flight, and 
 instantly separated from his companion, the latter 
 taking his course towards the mountains. Vokes, on 
 arriving at the spot where they had thus taken opposite 
 directions, took up the blunderbuss and followed Fitz- 
 maurice (for now he was convinced that the robber 
 was no less a personage) towards the hills. It was 
 
6 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 night, however, before he readied them, and he well 
 knew there was no chance of overtaking the fellow in 
 the dark ; so he fearlessly entered a cottage, where he 
 was hospitably received, and had a comfortable bed of 
 straw afforded to him. Yokes often laughed after- 
 wards at this incident, as he felt fully convinced that 
 he was there sheltered under the impression that he 
 was one of the gang — a belief which his thorough 
 knowledge of Irish strengthened. At daybreak he 
 was again on foot, and ascended the mountain. Here 
 he frequently arrived within a few hundred yards of 
 the man he sought, but each time was disappointed in 
 taking him. He, however, recollected that he had an 
 old and attached follower who had a hut half-way 
 down the mountain. Telling two or three peasants — 
 whom he affected to believe loyal — that he found that the 
 capture was impossible and that consequently he would 
 return to Limerick — he began to descend as night set 
 in, and, as he had well surmised, Rock was soon ap- 
 prised of his desistance from further pursuit. Yokes, 
 however, had no intention of thus abandoning his prey. 
 So, after thus publicly retracing his steps for about a 
 mile, he suddenly turned aside and entered his tenant's 
 cottage, where he was welcomed, and the doors and 
 windows closely barred, lest his presence might be 
 betrayed. At daybreak he again awoke, and was 
 about to resume his chase, when the farmer's son came 
 in and mentioned that he had just passed Fitzmaurice 
 descending towards Adare — indeed, that most noto- 
 rious character could scarcely be half a mile off at the 
 moment. Yokes did not hesitate, but rushed out, and 
 being on the higher ground, soon perceived the object 
 
MY HERO, 
 
 7 
 
 of his search. He had turned round, and was now, 
 for some reason or other (known only to himself), re- 
 ascending the brow of the hill. Yokes, as quick as 
 thought, hid himself behind a projecting rock in the 
 path over which Rock must necessarily pass. In a few 
 minutes more he did so, when, suddenly starting out, 
 the bold Major jumped forth, and before the ruffian 
 could look round, , had presented the muzzle of the 
 unloaded blunderbuss at his head, commanding him to 
 surrender. The other, believing that the next moment 
 would be his last if he ventured to resist, and being 
 wholly unarmed, at once surrendered, and allowed 
 Vokes to pinion him with his horsewhip, which he 
 still retained, and which, bound strongly and tightly 
 with his pocket-handkerchief and another which he 
 had found on the person of the prisoner, completely 
 fettered him. This done, he marched him down to 
 Patrick's- well, taking care to avoid every cottage, every 
 spot, where any of the peasantry were likely to be 
 found, well knowing that they would rescue their captain 
 (as they styled him) if they could. With the blunder- 
 buss — which, being without ammunition, was com- 
 pletely harmless — pointed at him, Yokes marched the 
 boldest brigand that ever infested the south of Ireland 
 nearly three miles, and lodged him in the hands of the 
 police. 
 
 Within two months, Fitzmaurice (alias Captain 
 Rock) was tried, convicted, and executed in the city of 
 Limerick — a city whose inhabitants had long trembled 
 at the very mention of his name. 
 
 Such being the unexaggerated facts recorded of this 
 wonderful capture — to which others of a minor de- 
 
8 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 scription might well be added — it is a matter of little 
 astonishment that the then Government of Ireland 
 offered the post of chief magistrate of police to Thomas 
 Phillips Yokes, who subsequently so fully justified their 
 choice, that a considerable income was accorded to him ; 
 that all the powers conferred by Sir Robert Peel's Act 
 were bestowed on him ; that the expenses voted for 
 secret-service money were often left to his discretion; 
 and lastly, that when he retired — worn out after thirty 
 years' service — he was allowed a pension for life of 
 1200?. (Irish) a year. 
 
 He is dead and gone, and a new style of magistracy 
 and police, under the Constabulary Act, have taken 
 the place of his system. That the present mode of 
 repressing crime and detecting offenders is ineffective 
 I think the outrages which now daily occur, even at 
 the moment I am writing, and the mode in which well- 
 known murderers escape their just doom, most plainly 
 show. But the few following sketches are meant 
 merely as a picture of crime in Ireland as she was — 
 not as she is : to portray the state of Munster, rather 
 than give a memoir of my friend. 
 
 That T. P. Yokes was estimated, not only in his own 
 country, but throughout the whole British empire, the 
 following paragraph, which appeared in the London 
 Illustrated News, most fully certifies, and at the same 
 time bears out the facts given in the preceding 
 sketch : — 
 
 "In our obituary of last month toe recorded the 
 death of Thomas Phillips Yokes, for upwards of thirty 
 years the chief magistrate of police in Limerick, a post 
 conferred on him for his daring courage and extraordi- 
 
MY HERO. 
 
 9 
 
 nary exertions in putting down the rebellious attempts 
 which threatened the south of Ireland in 1820 to 1822. 
 Mr. Yokes, at that period a country magistrate residing 
 on his paternal estate, single-handed and unarmed, 
 seized tlie notorious Captain Rock, the terror of the 
 whole district. During three days and nights he pur- 
 sued him through the mountain fastnesses of Limerick, 
 and at length having captured him, brought him in and 
 lodged him in the county jail. He was soon after tried, 
 convicted, and executed. When Munster ivas paralysed 
 by the murder of Major Going and others — when magis- 
 trates shrunk in natural terror, well knowing the fatal 
 consequences of activity — when harassed authorities, 
 worn-out troops, and ill-organized police held back from 
 a task of no ordinary danger and toil, Thomas Phillips 
 Yokes boldly stepped fonvard to put down crime, and 
 bring the violators of the law to instant and summary 
 punishment. He claimed descent from the Yauxes, 
 Lords of Gilsland, and in this belief he was borne out 
 by the fact of his grandfather, Sir Richard Yokes, 
 having originally spelt his name Yaux. Three times 
 ivere the thanks of Government tendered to this officer, 
 accompanied (on two occasions) by substantial pecuniary 
 marks of approval. He was the last survivifig magis- 
 trate under Reels Irish Police Act. By his death a 
 pension of 9bQl. a year reverts to Government." — 
 October, 1852. 
 
10 
 
 THE BIED'S NEST. 
 
 To those only who have long resided in Ireland can be 
 known the horror inspired by a " process server," — 
 the abhorrence with which these poor men are looked 
 upon by every Patlander. In this quiet and orderly 
 country, the man placed in " possession " of your pro- 
 perty by the formalities of the law is not only con- 
 sidered as the mere tool of a superior power, but is 
 often, very often, well treated. Nay, courtesy goes so 
 far, that he is frequently asked, during his forced 
 sojourn, to join in all the meals and other comforts 
 which the house affords. Not so in the sister country. 
 The unhappy man sent in to do this unpleasant duty 
 is not only ill-treated and abused, but often becomes a 
 victim of murderous ferocity. 
 
 One of the most remarkable illustrations of Irish 
 feeling occurred some thirty years ago in the county 
 of Clare, when a gentleman of high standing, good 
 estate, and old family, w T as so irritated, that, on his 
 house being taken possession of, he actually got up in 
 the middle of the night, and set it on fire, thus periling 
 the lives of the two poor officials in charge. That which, 
 however, made the case still worse, was the attempt 
 on the part of the incendiary to cast the blame on the 
 
THE BIRD'S NEST. 
 
 II 
 
 H men in possession j " from which charge, however, 
 they perfectly cleared themselves, and Mr. — — was 
 fully committed for setting fire to his own house, a 
 somewhat strange occurrence ; bub several cases of 
 thus destroying the security of creditors having lately 
 occurred, Sir Eobert Peel deemed it necessary to make 
 
 it a felony. Mr. was the first party indicted 
 
 under the new act, and would undoubtedly have 
 escaped, had he not (as we have said) endeavoured to 
 destroy two innocent men, basing his accusation on 
 his own personal observation. This was thought so 
 horrible that the law was allowed to take its course, 
 
 and Mr. was hanged in Ennis, as an example to 
 
 deter those who would thus savagely avenge their own 
 irregularities on the heads of those who had never 
 injured them. 
 
 This striking fact, however, seemed to have little 
 effect on the bloodthirsty nature of the Irish peasantry ; 
 for in the journal I was now reading there was a 
 dreadful account of a murder committed (or, rather, 
 discovered the day before) on two keepers, near Kil- 
 mallock. The bodies of the unfortunate men were 
 found in a small river, about a mile from the farm- 
 house they were supposed to be in possession of ; and 
 steps had been taken to make it appear as if they had 
 perished by accident; but this belief was at once 
 destroyed by their skulls being found battered in, and 
 their faces so disfigured with blows, that it was a task 
 of great difficulty to identify them. 
 
 The account given by the farmer's family w r as very 
 clear, and the testimony of each member of the circle 
 agreed so consistently, that their evidence was scarcely 
 
12 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 to be doubted. It appeared from their statement, 
 that the two meu had taken up their residence in an 
 adjoining barn, and that one of the daughters had 
 carried them their frugal supper the evening before. 
 They then seemed well primed with whisky, and 
 might be supposed to be in possession of still larger 
 supplies of this intoxicating beverage. The general 
 belief of the family was, therefore, that the two poor 
 fellows, having got drunk, fell asleep, and, on waking, 
 walked across the fields, to bathe themselves, for the 
 purpose of washing away their debauch ; but, unfor- 
 tunately, not being quite sober, they had fallen in, just 
 where the stream was most rapid and deep, and thus 
 fell victims to their intemperance. The wounds on 
 their head they supposed must have been caused by 
 being dashed against some rocks, past which they had 
 been carried by the stream. 
 
 The story seemed to the local authorities to be 
 somewhat improbable ; but, on strict investigation, 
 they found the footsteps of two men clearly imprinted 
 in several places between the door of the barn and the 
 river, where they again appeared on the muddy and 
 slippery bank. The whole house was examined over 
 and over again ; but no weapon, no instrument of 
 death, or cause of suspicion, could be discovered. 
 Forty-eight hours were fruitlessly employed by the 
 local magistrates, the chief constable, and the coroner, 
 in seeking for some evidence ; but all in vain. As a 
 last resource, they wrote to Yokes, in Limerick. 
 
 Of all this — beyond the paragraph in the news- 
 paper — I heard nothing till the entrance of the chief 
 constable, who arrived, bearing the invitation to my 
 intelligent friend to attend. 
 
THE BIRD'S NEST. 
 
 13 
 
 " Well, Mac, as they wish it, I'll go ; but you may 
 depend upon it, it's as the people say. These fellows 
 got drunk, and slipped into the river. I'll order my 
 carriage directly, and you and my relative here can 
 drive over with me." 
 
 I began to make excuses. 
 
 " Oh, don't be getting out of it ! If you'll come 
 
 along we'll touch at , and I'll show you the finest 
 
 stud of horses in Ireland. Come, don't be fancying 
 that there's any danger this time ! I'm only going 
 over to see my brother magistrates. By-the-bye I'd 
 like to introduce you to some of them. There's no 
 cause of alarm to any one here, is there, Mac ?" turning 
 to the police officer. 
 
 " None in the world, Major. Sure, if there had been 
 anything, we would have discovered it without 
 troubling you." 
 
 " You're right ; but as they ask me, we'll just run 
 over f and in half-au-hour more, we were en route. 
 
 I confess I was not comfortable. Yokes was far too 
 jovial to please me, and he laughed at the idea of this 
 murder so loudly, and pooh-poohed it so strongly, that 
 I felt he was not sincere. 
 
 When within three miles of Kilmallock, he, as usual, 
 got out of his carriage, and mounted on horseback, 
 making me and his officer do the same. To my 
 surprise, we found Sergeant M'Grath and six mounted 
 policemen waiting for him. The chief constable 
 seemed more surprised than myself. If there really 
 had been a murder, a larger force ought to have 
 been called out. If the death arose from accident, 
 surely no policemen were requisite. The Major, 
 
14 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 however, made no remark, and we trotted across 
 the country, followed at a distance by the constables 
 and the carriage. I adhered to my old rule of asking 
 no questions. 
 
 Presently we came within sight of the farmhouse 
 where the bodies were lying. It was surrounded 
 by (at least) 5000 persons, many of whom seemed 
 strangely excited. I could not but feel a sensation 
 of terror as I looked upon this lawless body. I 
 believe my countenance must have betokened my alarm, 
 for my relative gave me a reassuring smile. He then 
 directed his sub to join the policemen, with directions 
 to bring them round to the rear of the building, and 
 jumping off his horse, motioned me to do the "same. 
 I confess I did so with reluctance, and when I handed 
 the bridle to the boy, who had undertaken to hold the 
 animal, I must needs admit I would have willingly 
 dissuaded Yokes from entering the crowd, who, as he 
 approached, gave three groans for him — a welcome 
 they poured forth with all the venom of their souls, 
 for many amongst them had reason to dread his power. 
 The major took off his hat with a smile, and laughingly 
 thanked them, then plunged into the midst of them. 
 Yokes had only a riding-whip wdth him, and this in- 
 strument he did not hesitate to use, when any one 
 attempted to bar his passage, or press too closely on 
 him. Unless I am egregiously mistaken, I read 
 murder and vengeance in the eyes of many. But a 
 secret and unconquerable dread of the chief magistrate, 
 who boldly looked them in the face, seemed to restrain 
 them. 
 
 At length we entered the cottage, in which a couple 
 
THE BIRD'S NEST. 
 
 is 
 
 of magistrates and several policemen loitered. These 
 functionaries assured Vokes that, after a most 
 lengthened and minute inquiry, they could obtain no 
 clue to the perpetrators of the horrid deed. 
 
 The Major next interrogated the family — a more' 
 intelligent circle I never saw in humble life. They 
 gave their evidence clearly, and one of the poor girls 
 burst into tears as she told her story. She it was who 
 had last seen the poor fellows now lying dead in the 
 adjoining barn. Vokes, after hearing their account, 
 told them he should doubtlessly require their testimony 
 at the approaching assizes in Limerick ; to this the 
 whole family, consisting of the father, mother, a son, 
 and t^o daughters, readily assented. 
 
 He next inspected the bodies of the poor men, and 
 when a brother magistrate pointed out to him the pro- 
 bability of its having been a mere accident, the chief 
 magistrate seemed to assent. 
 
 I now hoped all was over ; but my relative again 
 turned into the house. After examining again and 
 again the rooms upstairs, he returned to the spacious 
 kitchen. Here about a dozen persons were assembled. 
 The room itself bore a look of comfort. There was a 
 good clock. The crockery and saucepans were clean 
 and ranged along the wall. A goose sat hatching her 
 eggs beside the fireplace. A large house-dog, appa- 
 rently well fed, slept before the hearth. It was one of 
 the cleanest Irish kitchens I ever was in. 
 
 Yokes suddenly called to a policeman : — 
 
 "Pull that goose out of her nest. That's right. 
 Take out the eggs. Ah ! What is the nest niads off 
 
 " Some linen, Major," replied the constable. 
 
16 RECOLLECTIONS OF AX IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " Let us see it, Maloney," and the next instant the 
 man held up a large linen sheet saturated with blood. 
 It was now dry, but there was no mistaking it. 
 
 " Seize the whole family ! Handcuff them, and off 
 with them to Limerick. You may take my carriage, 
 if you like it. McGrath, jump upstairs, and, in the 
 little room on the right, you will find two hocky-sticks. 
 Take care how you handle them, for there is blood and 
 clotted brains that must not be rubbed off them ; and 
 now, Mr. Martin, I think we have you," said he, turn- 
 ing to the farmer. " No words ! off with him." 
 
 w Eut, Major," interrupted one of the local magis- 
 trates, "Martin is a tenant of mine, and a highly re- 
 spectable man. Besides, he is — " 
 
 "A murderer !" 
 
 " You are mistaken — I'll bail him — " 
 
 " 'Faith, my dear friend, you can't ; and what's more, 
 you shan't. If I'm wrong, I'll take the blame. Egad, 
 Harry, I have them," said he, turning to me. " Well 
 be off before the people outside are aware of it,*' and 
 out we went. The people, however, seeing us without 
 escort or prisoners, believed that Yokes's mission had 
 failed, and welcomed us cheerfully as we passed through 
 them. No time, however, was to be lost, and even 
 before we were well out of sight of them, their frantic 
 cries showed they had learned our acts. 
 
 On the subsequent trial, one of the sisters having 
 turned approver (or, as we call it, King's evidence), 
 declared that she had not only seen, but assisted in the 
 murder. Drugged heavily with whisky, the unsus- 
 pecting men had fallen fast asleep, when the son and 
 two daughters stole in with the hocky-sticks (produced 
 
THE BIRD'S NEST. 
 
 17 
 
 in court), and battered out their brains. They then 
 tied their bodies in a large sheet, and the father and 
 son carried them to a spot at least a mile down the 
 river, where they threw them in. A faint picture of 
 this girl — who now without shrinking described the 
 assassination, and by her proved evidence gave her 
 whole family to the scaffold — I have sketched in the 
 next chapter. 
 
 About six weeks after the above scene in the farm- 
 house, I was ordered out with my troop as an execution 
 party (a military duty only, I believe, exercised in 
 Irelaud) and as I could get no one to change with me, 
 I was compelled, much against my own will, to see old 
 Martin, his wife, his daughter, and his son, hanged 
 over the gateway of the new prison in Limerick. 
 
18 
 
 OUK COTTAGE NEAR LIMERICK. 
 
 My father-in-law had asked me most cordially to peas 
 a few days with him in his suburban residence. Bo on 
 my arrival frofrn Dublin, I ordered my hired car to 
 drive me out to Eathran ; and here I arrived at about 
 eight o'clock, p.m., one fine evening in the month of 
 September. The air was chilly ; the light was fast 
 declining ; I was tired, and was jolted to death by the 
 bad roads I had traversed. No wonder, then, that I 
 hailed with joy the father of my wife, who, sitting 
 before a blazing fire, was making steady inroads into 
 a cooper of Sneyd's best claret. As I entered, I sud- 
 denly imagined I had never seen a more perfect picture 
 of enjoyment. Major Yokes was a good-looking, 
 intelligent fellow, and his countenance — like a frontis- 
 piece — bespoke his many good qualities. But there 
 was a bonhomie in his smile, as he pronounced the 
 u Caid mille faltha " which at once warmed the heart, 
 and guaranteed the welcome he professed. 
 
 For about half-an-hour we chatted cosily beside the 
 enlivening flame, and arrived at that stage of perfect 
 contentment, when men least wish to be disturbed. 
 In a word, we sat in that perfect tranquillity and 
 bodily repose which only Englishmen know — and they 
 only when, with their handkerchiefs over their knees, 
 
OUR COTTAGE NEAF* tlMEKICK. 10 
 
 they sip cool claret before a burning fire. At least it 
 used to be so. On a sudden, Vokes started, jumped 
 up, and rang the bell. 
 
 " You will excuse me ? The fact is, I have an im- 
 portant witness to examine. Will you pardon my 
 leaving you, or shall I have him in here ?" 
 
 " In here, by all means." 
 
 " Send Michy O'Hoolaghan in !" said he to the ser- 
 vant who entered. 
 
 The servitor disappeared ; and in a few moments 
 one of the most extraordinary men I ever saw, entered* 
 He was short, ill-clothed, and lame. His head was 
 out of proportion, and his face decidedly plain ; but he 
 threw out bright glances from eyes — so bright, so 
 intelligent — that it was impossible to doubt his talent^ 
 while the sneering leer which often accompanied these 
 looks, made one naturally shrink in terror from him. 
 
 He now shuffled into the room, and stood sheepishly 
 awaiting the orders of Major Yokes. 
 
 "Well, Michy, my boy, are you ready to sail for 
 America I" 
 
 " Sure you know that I am that same." 
 
 " There's a fine ship of Spaight's sailing on Monday." 
 
 "Oh, sure it's I that know it, and hope your 
 honour '11 send Biddy and I in it. But they tell me 
 young Moore is going in her ; and if so, I can't ; for 
 sure it was his father I hanged when I turned ap- 
 prover. Sometimes I think I was wrong ?" 
 
 " Don't make an omadthawn of yourself. Here^ 
 take a glass of potheen. Sure, you're better now] 
 Ay, I thought so. Now, tell me what you've got from 
 the girl?" 
 
 2—2 
 
20 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " May I spake ?" and he leered knowingly at me. 
 
 " Go on," said the Major. " It's all right — it's my 
 son-in-law. There, sit down, and tell me all about it, 
 and divii a lie ; for, by the cross, if you tell me a lie 
 you'll never see Ameriky." 
 
 I closely observed that, as Vokes wished to gain 
 confidence, he increased his Irish accent. 
 
 " Is it me — glorj r be to her soul ! — is it me would 
 tell your honour a lie ? God speed your honour ! Do 
 you think that I'd turn upon the man that saved 
 my life, and has fed me ever since 9 Not I. The 
 Heavens forbid. But, to tell you the truth, I couldn't 
 get spache of Biddy M'Grath to-day. I've not been 
 very well, and I've scarcely left the guard- room." 
 
 " Oh, then, you've not been out all day V 
 
 "Not I, fait." 
 
 " Michy, Michy," said Vokes, shaking his head 
 and smiling, " you're a bad boy, I fear ; you would 
 deceive me ?" 
 
 " Not I, nor the likes of me. I'll swear on the 
 Book I've never stirred beyont the walls." 
 
 " Where did you drop this knife, you roofer ? Nay, 
 don't tremble and start. I know all. You met Biddy 
 in the back garden, and she gave you the note which 
 you have in your right-hand pocket. Yes ; it's there. 
 Dont shake and lie any further. It comes from 
 Father Anthony, and desires you not to betray the 
 girl. You need tell me nothing." 
 
 Down went Michy on his knees, pale with fright. 
 I began to fidget ; and I verily do believe I shared, at 
 that moment, the general belief that Vokes obtained 
 his information from some infernal source. 
 
OUR COTTAGE NEAR LIMERICK. 
 
 21 
 
 u Oh, your honour's glorv, don't be hard on a poor 
 boy." 
 
 The fellow was fifty years old ; but they all style 
 themselves boys in Ireland. 
 
 " Stand up, you bosthoon, and if you don't tell me 
 the whole truth, by my soul — and you know I don't 
 swear false — you shall see the inside of the county 
 gaol before two hours are over. It's not a traitor I'd 
 nurse in my own house. Sergeant Beady (in a moment 
 the Sergeant appeared), take Michy out, and bring 
 Paddy Malone in. He'll tell us the truth. So good 
 evening, Michy O'Hoolaghan." 
 
 In a moment the wretch seemed to recover. He 
 sprang to his feet, and roared rather than spoke. 
 
 "Is. Paddy Malone here? Oh, then it's all up. 
 Oh then Major, it's not Paddy you shall trate with. 
 By the soul of my mother, I'll tell you the truth — I'll 
 tell you all. But don't let Paddy turn approver ! Oh 
 now, Major agra, you'll listen to me, won't you? and 
 his voice assumed the tones of supplication. 
 
 "Well, we'll see; sit down again. Stand behind 
 him, Sergeant Ready, and if I nod, take him off, and 
 bring Malone. Harry, my boy, take a glass of clax*et. 
 Now, Michy, begin." 
 
 Michy fidgetted for a time, and then slowly spoke. 
 
 " Sure, I happened to be strolling down the back 
 garden, and quite by accident I met Biddy M'Grath." 
 
 " That's false ; you went by appointment." And 
 Vokes nodded to the Sergeant. 
 
 " Come along, Michy," said the policeman. 
 
 " Arrah, not so ; I knew I was lying — your honour's 
 right. Only let me stay, and I'll spake as I would to 
 
22 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 my clargy. (Yokes nodded.) Well, then, you see, I 
 met Biddy in the lower summer-house, and she tould 
 me all. It was her brother — you recollect Jerry, 
 Major? Well, it was Jerry who held the cow-keeper 
 down, while Biddy and her mother finished him with 
 hurley sticks." 
 
 " And how could Jerry hold him down so easily?" 
 " Sure he gave him lashins to drink ; and then he 
 took him into the Linnie, and made him a nice straw 
 bed ; and when he was fast asleep, Jerry stole in and 
 stunned him with a big stone, afore the women set-to, 
 and they finished him entirely J for when the body was 
 found in the river, it was two days before it could be 
 recognised, the head was so nicely mashed up; and 
 even your honour — great glory to you ! — would never 
 have 'dentified him, hadn't you found the process paper 
 in his pocket ; and then you knew who it was." 
 
 " Well, I knew all you told me before from Malone. 
 So no thanks to you. Malone it was carried the body 
 down to the river. He'll make a good witness." 
 
 " Arrah, your honour, then, wouldn't take that 
 thief 's word before mine? Sure, I've a right to the 
 reward. Wasn't it I that cajoled Biddy to come here ? 
 and isn't it I that tould her you'd do her no harm ? and 
 ain't she ready to swear that the Macmahons did it ? 
 and ain't she plased with the kind way she's treated ? 
 and if I did not tell you at once, wasn't it for fear of 
 Father Anthony ? and sure I'd not have tould you now, 
 only as Paddy Malone is here, it's all over ; and I claim 
 to be approver." 
 
 " Does Biddy know that you communicate with 
 me?" 
 
OUR COTTAGE NEAR LIMERICK. 
 
 23 
 
 " Not at all. She believes I'm kept here to keep me 
 from the O'Kellys, against whom I swore." 
 " That will do." 
 
 Yokes nodded, and the witness was led out of the 
 room. 
 
 " There goes the greatest villain in Ireland. I'll try 
 a glass of toddy. The fellow makes me sick." 
 "Who and what is he?" 
 
 " He is what we call an approver. Without such 
 means we could never succeed in obtaining information 
 in Ireland. The history of the fellow is simply this : 
 He and his foster father were taken up for burning an 
 old woman in her cottage, and strangling a poor child 
 that endeavoured to escape. The case was clear, but 
 we had no direct evidence. I sent for Michy; I 
 treated him as an agent, and never pretended to sus- 
 pect him. I gave him every luxury. One fine day, I 
 committed him to the gaol, and desired him to be 
 rigorously treated. I affected to have heard some 
 details, and accused him direct of the murder. The 
 charge was too startling for him. He believed I had 
 evidence to convict him. He at once turned approver 
 (or King's evidence, as you call it in England), and on 
 his testimony, corroborated by less important witnesses, 
 his foster father was hanged. Since then he has wormed 
 himself into the confidence of several ruffians, and be- 
 trayed them. He has joined conspiracies, and enabled 
 me to crush them. Michy is a good tool in his way." 
 
 i: And can you sleep beneath the roof with such a 
 villain] I strongly suspect he'd have even thrown 
 you over, if you hadn't got hold of his partner in 
 crime, this Paddy Malone," 
 
24. RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" roared Yokes ; " come, that's good. 
 Why, Paddy is safe in New York. He escaped me." 
 "He's not here, then?" 
 
 " Not a bit ; I only wish he was. I merely hinted 
 at it to make Michy let out the truth. But the little 
 rascal is getting so false that I'll send him off, after 
 the assizes, to America. He cant remain safely iu 
 this country. If unguarded, his life would not be 
 worth four-and-twenty hours' purchase. So he's bound 
 hand and foot to serve the Government, who will now, 
 probably, give him some twenty pounds and a free 
 passage to New York. I confess he'll be a loss to me. 
 But now you shall see another sort of individual. 
 Sergeant Ready, bring in Biddy M'Grath ;" and in a 
 few moments his orders were obeyed. 
 
 The girl who now entered was one of the loveliest 
 specimens of Irish beauty. She was neatly, almost 
 coquettishly dressed. Her brown hair flowed down 
 her back, and as she bobbed a curtsey to the Major, I 
 really thought I had never beheld anything so en- 
 chanting as her smile — so full of truth and inno- 
 cence. 
 
 " Come in, ma colyeen ; come near the fire, and tell 
 us, have you any news of Paddy Malone ? (I started.) 
 I've made every inquiry, and I think he may be in 
 Dublin. We'll want his evidence to convict the Mftft- 
 mahons. They'll never be found guilty without more 
 witnesses.' , 
 
 " Sure, Major, I'm Here ; and I saw them draggiug 
 the body across our field as clear as I see you." 
 
 " But your evidence must be supported, and Paddy 
 cannot be found. Take a glass of toddy, you look 
 
OUR COTTAGE NEAR LIMERICK. 
 
 25 
 
 cold ! By the bye, have you not a mother ? Where 
 is she i" 
 
 " It's myself don't know ; I think she's gone to 
 England." 
 
 " That's a pity ; for, you see, it's no use taking up 
 these Macmahons; they'd get off without a second 
 witness. So, Biddy agra, you can go back to-morrow, 
 and I'll institute fresh inquiries myself." 
 
 " God be good to us, — you wouldn't think any one 
 else done it l n 
 
 " Well, I don't know. I'll go to Eathkeale myself, 
 and inquire into it." 
 
 The girl turned deadly pale ; the Major listlessly 
 sipped his grog. 
 
 " Good night a coushla," and he made a sign to dis- 
 miss her. She lingered. 
 
 " Stay, Major. Sure, as your honour says, my 
 mother was with me, and so was my brother, when we 
 saw the Macmahons dragging the murdered man across 
 the field." 
 
 " Well, but where are they?" suddenly demanded 
 Vokes. 
 
 " At the cross-roads in Cratloe Wood !" replied the 
 girl, who the next moment seemed bitterly to repent 
 her candour, and would have withdrawn her state- 
 ment. She again and again declared she had made a 
 mistake, and the Major apparently believed her. Ser- 
 geant Ready rose and conducted her out. 
 
 " What a lovely creature !" I involuntarily ejacu- 
 lated. " How young and innocent ! Surely she can- 
 not have offended ?" 
 
 " Listen ! That girl, her brother, and her mother, 
 
26 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 committed the most frightful murder, only a few weeks 
 ago, that ever disgraced Minister. This was one of 
 the girls whom Michy told you, just now, bat- 
 tered out the brains of a poor process-server with 
 hurley or (as you call them) hocky sticks. Ey the 
 bye, I've left the identical sticks in your bed-room ; 
 see that they are not touched, for there is a portion of 
 the brains and hair of the victim still sticking to them ; 
 they will be produced in evidence. This girl was the 
 most savage of the party, and even struck the face of 
 the corpse, when about to be thrown into the water, 
 to prevent its recognition. She now wants to accuse 
 some neighbours, who have deeply offended her, of the 
 crime, and hopes to see them executed. But she's 
 quite mistaken. After her confession to Michy, there'll 
 be no difficulty in getting her to turn round * so I 
 think now the case is complete. But I see you are 
 tired." 
 
 He rang the bell. " Take a light into my son-in- 
 law's room, and send in Corporal Vesey." That func- 
 tionary arrived. 
 
 " Take four mounted men ; manage to arrive about 
 two o'clock in the morning at the cottage near the 
 cross-roads in Cratloe Wood. Bring Matty M'Grath 
 and his mother. Don't let 'em speak to each other ; 
 and lodge them in jail, with orders to keep them 6 soli- 
 tary' till I see them in the morning. Be off!" and 
 away went the Corporal. 
 
 I now sought my bed-room, and found the Major's 
 English valet waiting for me. From him I learned 
 that the " gentle murderess" slept in the next room, and 
 that Michy had a room to himself over the kitchen ; 
 
JwaTOTT CGLLEftK LIBRARY 
 
 half-a-dozen other witnesses, generally speaking, mur- 
 derers, slept over the guard-room — for so was the 
 wash-house called — where four policemen sat up all 
 night, as the cottage would probably be some night 
 attacked. There was a recently-mended hole in my 
 shutter, through which a ball had been fired (for I 
 must tell you the whole cottage was on the ground- 
 floor, bungalow fashion), and in the corner I beheld 
 the hocky sticks made use of to destroy a human 
 being. 
 
 Shall I say how I slept ? and when I slept what 
 dreams I dreamt ? No. Suffice it to say, I never spent 
 a less pleasant night, and that I unhesitatingly refused 
 to prolong my stay, though earnestly pressed to do so 
 by the hospitable Major, at breakfast next morning. 
 
 After the meal, I drove back to Limerick, while 
 Vokes went to examine his newly-arrived friends in 
 the county gaol. 
 
28 
 
 CAREICKSHOCK ; 
 
 OR 
 
 A PLEASANT EXCUB8IOX. 
 
 " Harry, my boy, you have never been in the county 
 of Waterfordr* 
 " Never 1" 
 
 " Well, then," rejoined my gallant relative, Major 
 Vokes, " you have now a good opportunity. I have 
 some little business to transact there, so I've ordered 
 ray travelling carriage at six in the morning. We 
 shan't be more than two days absent, therefore don : t 
 bring much luggage. The weather is remarkably fine, 
 so we shall have a very pleasant trip and away went 
 my excellent friend, whistling a cheerful air. 
 
 Now, although Yokes took my assent for granted, 
 I felt somewhat doubtful about accepting it. That I 
 had often expressed a wish to see the county into 
 which he was going, I fully admit, and for this single 
 reason, I suppose, he felt certain that I should snap at 
 his proposal. But on the other hand, though I fully 
 intended to see Curraghmore, yet I was by no means 
 desirous of becoming the travelling companion of a 
 man against whom a thousand oaths of assassination 
 had been recorded ; and as we were about to traverse 
 Tipperary, a notoriously ill-disposed county, and 
 
CARRICKSHOCK. 
 
 29 
 
 going to a spot hardly fifteeen or twenty miles from 
 the scene of the most savage butchery that ever dis- 
 graced the annals of Ireland, namely, the murder of 
 nineteen policemen and their officers^ which had only 
 taken place at Carrickshock the week before, I seri- 
 ously hesitated about accompanying Yokes. So far 
 from it, I should (in any other case) have not only 
 given it up myself, but have endeavoured to dissuade 
 the worthy magistrate from his contemplated journey. 
 I well knew, however, in his case, that the more 
 vividly I pour tray ed the danger, the more delighted 
 he would feel in courting it ; so I held my tongue, and 
 after dinner allowed myself to be persuaded, partly by 
 coaxing and partly by the fear of being laughed at, 
 into joining my friend. We accordingly started the 
 following morning ; and after traversing the wretched 
 bog which stretches itself between Limerick and Tip- 
 perary, arrived in safety at the latter town without 
 meeting with any occurrence worth noticing. 
 
 Vokes ordered a substantial breakfast, and appeared 
 in high spirits. He did not, however, tell me the 
 object of his mission, and I refrained from inquiring. 
 That it was a pleasing one I drew an inference from 
 his cheerful manner, and I already began to laugh at 
 my foolish fears. 
 
 The meal over, we descended, and to my utter 
 surprise I found two horses, ready saddled, standing 
 at the door. The carriage had returned to Limerick ; 
 we were to complete our journey on horseback. I 
 should probably have asked some questions, but Vokes 
 enforced silence on me by a look, so we mounted 
 and trotted off on the road to Nenagh, which my 
 
30 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 friend readily found, from the directions afforded to 
 him by the ostler of the hotel, a most respectable- 
 looking young man. We had scarcely, however, pro- 
 ceed above three miles, when Yokes turned, without 
 any apparent reason, down a cross-road, and rather 
 increased his speed. 
 
 "What are you about? Where are you going?" 
 cried I. 
 
 " Why, to Waterford, to be sure ! " 
 
 u Why, I fancied you had changed your mind, and 
 had intended to go to Nenagh — at least, so you said." 
 
 The Major burst out laughing. " Harry, I didn't 
 think you were so soft. Why, couldn't you see, with 
 half an eye, that the ostler was a bad boy — a spy — so 
 I threw him off the scent, by coming round this way. 
 By this time there's more than one carbine loaded to 
 shoot me on that road. Don't be flustered, there's no 
 danger here. Yonder is the main road, and Sergeant 
 Magrath waiting for us." 
 
 We were now joined by that active policeman, who 
 was well mounted, and admirably dressed as a groom. 
 He had, however, a pair of holsters, out of which a 
 brace of pistols appeared ; but as many country gen- 
 tlemen in those days carried arms, when riding through 
 the disturbed districts, this fact did not betray the 
 sergeant's calling. 
 
 When we came to a certain spot, just beyond the 
 thick woods of Banshea, Yokes paused: " There's 
 Lismackew \ just in that corner poor Baker was mur- 
 dered, in the middle of the day." I confess this little 
 statement, and a subsequent full detail of the assassi- 
 nation, with which my friend favoured me as we rode 
 
CARRICKSHOCK. 
 
 31 
 
 along, did not add much to my comfort, and I began 
 to wish I had remained within the Barracks at Limerick, 
 where I was at this time quartered. 
 
 Presently, a carriage dashed passed us, surrounded 
 by police. These men I recognised as belonging 
 to Yokes's especial force ; they, however, took no 
 notice of him, but galloped away in eager haste. 
 
 " Bless me, Major ! what does that mean 1 " 
 
 " Oh, it's Quin, the approver ; they are taking him 
 to Kilkenny, to give evidence against Kennedy, the 
 chief murderer at Carrickshock, who will be tried the 
 day after to-morrow.' ' 
 
 " But is this witness so unwilling as to require this 
 guard i " 
 
 "By no means. My men surround the carriage to 
 protect him ; and even to do that they would not be 
 able, if they had not relays of horses to enable them to 
 gallop all the way. They go through no towns, and 
 they travel too fast to be overtaken," 
 
 " But why i " 
 
 "Harry, my boy, yoivre as green as any Englishman 
 I ever met. Don't you see, that if they could be 
 caught, they'd soon be surrounded, and the approver 
 dragged out and torn to pieces." 
 
 I shuddered, and rode on to Clonmel without 
 uttering another word. Here we remained for several 
 hours, Yokes evidently wishing to arrive late at Pill- 
 town (the cleanest and prettiest village in Ireland), 
 which he now condescended to tell me was to be our 
 ultimate destination ; and where, according to his 
 settled plan, we alighted at Anthony's snug hotel, 
 about nine o'clock the same evening. We supped, and 
 
32 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 went to bed. The room in which I slept was, however, 
 unfortunately, near the stable, and I was awakened 
 more than once by hearing the voices of several persons 
 conversing in a foreign language. This, though an 
 annoyance, but did not utterly destroy my slumbers ; 
 I was thoroughly tired ; and I did not rise till nine 
 o'clock next morning. Yokes was seated at the break- 
 fast-table when I entered. He had evidently received 
 and despatched several letters before I came down. 
 He was sending off a mounted policeman as I opened 
 the door. 
 
 After our meal, Vokes proposed a stroll through 
 the village, at the same time expressing his intention 
 to call on some of the cottagers, whom he well knew, 
 as he had resided, for some time after his marriage, at 
 Belline, a very handsome mansion in the neighbour- 
 hood, formerly inhabited by the brother of his wife, 
 then acting as agent to the Earl of Besborough, but 
 who was now abroad. We entered a very pretty cot- 
 tage, and, to my surprise, I found the interior as clean 
 and neat as any similar establishment in England. It 
 appeared that the noble landlord insisted on this — he 
 might spare a man who could not pay his rent — indeed, 
 he often did so. But he inexorably evicted a dirty or 
 a drunken tenant, and thus made Pill town the prettiest 
 and best village in the South of Ireland. 
 
 The old woman whom we called to see was almost 
 blind, but she instantly recognised Yokes, and to him 
 she related her griefs. Her grandson (a policeman) 
 had been killed at Carrickshock, and she now hoped 
 "the Major" would get her a pension from Govern- 
 ment. She evidently believed he was all-powerful j 
 
CARRICKSHOCK. 
 
 23 
 
 and I fancy she was not very far wrong in her con- 
 jecture. 
 
 In the next house we found two handsome girls. 
 They had similarly lost their father, and the magistrate 
 elicited important information from their loquacity. 
 I now began to observe that my friend was anxious to 
 ascertain the details of the affair, for in every cottage 
 we visited he managed artfully to derive some informa- 
 tion on the subject. On two occasions the doors, as 
 we approached, were slammed in our faces, and I could 
 not help remarking that we did not meet a single male 
 during the whole time we were out. On these points 
 I questioned the Major ; who explained to me that the 
 owners of the two residences, where we had been ex- 
 cluded, had both fallen at Carrickshock ; but as they 
 belonged to the murdering party, their relatives refused 
 him admission — looking upon him as a dangerous 
 monster. I expressed my wonder that they should 
 thus be acquainted with his arrival. 
 
 " My dear fellow, we had not gone to bed last night, 
 when every soul for ten miles round was aware that 
 we were here, and it's precisely for that reason all the 
 men are out of the way. To-morrow or next day we 
 shall probably see them back." 
 
 This was by no means reassuring ; and though I 
 said nothing, I felt vexed at the idea of remaining in 
 Pilltown for several days longer, which was evidently 
 Yokes's intention. 
 
 During dinner, my friend explained the affair, which 
 he was evidently investigating. It appears that about 
 a week only before the then present time, a party of 
 nineteen policemen, commanded by a chief constable, 
 3 
 
34 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 went out after dark, in order to seize some arms, 
 •which they expected to find at a certain farm-honse. 
 These men were dressed in uniform, and armed as 
 soldiers, and fine efficient soldiers they were. They 
 each carried a musket, a bayonet, and thirty rounds of 
 ball cartridge; their officer was mounted on horse- 
 back — so of course they anticipated no danger, even in 
 a country where every man's hand is against the lav/, 
 and where every man (at least it was so in those times) 
 looked upon a policeman as his bitterest enemy. . 
 
 The party, being disappointed in their search, were 
 returning home towards nightfall, and had arrived at a 
 spot on the mountains called Carrickshock, when they 
 were met by a countryman, who volunteered to tell 
 them where the arms they were in search of lay hid. 
 The chief constable fell into the trap, and ordered his 
 men to turn down a lane, at the end of which the 
 peasant stated the weapons were buried (as is often the 
 case), and to which spot he would guide them. So 
 down they marched, the commander going first, and 
 beside him a civil officer, who had taken advantage of 
 the strength of the party to serve some notices of 
 eviction, under the shield of their protection. The 
 lane did not exceed a couple of hundred yards in length, 
 it was narrow, and had a high bank on either side. It 
 was what is generally styled a " a borheen " in the 
 South of Ireland, and admirably fitted for an ambuscade. 
 Suddenly the guide gave a loud whistle, and disap- 
 peared. In an instant the notice-server fell dead ; 
 while on either bank appeared a large party of men 
 and women. Before the policemen had time to come 
 to the " present," a volley had been fired into them, 
 
CABRICKSHOCK. 
 
 35 
 
 which told with fatal effect. They fired, but it was 
 too late, the crowd had now rushed down, and hemmed 
 them in. The chief constable was one of the first 
 killed, and before five minutes had elapsed, every 
 policeman lay dead or wounded on the ground. The 
 former were mutilated, and dragged about with yells 
 of triumph. The wounded were pierced with innume- 
 rable wounds. The arms were seized with avidity, 
 and then the murderers (of whom only three, I believe, 
 were killed) marched off, glorying in the act, and even 
 singing songs of delight. They left behind them the 
 bodies of the civil process-server, the chief constable, 
 and nineteen fine young men, several of whom were 
 natives of this town. 
 
 I naturally inquired if the assassins had been seized, 
 as they must be known. 
 
 " Known 1 to be sure they are ; but what's the use 
 of taking them up, when no one will give evidence 
 against them? O yeS) you may be astonished, but 
 such is the state of Ireland. The man's life who 
 identified one of the murderers would not be worth 
 half-an-hour's purchase. So Government has only got 
 hold of one of them, a certain Kennedy ; but although 
 the case is clear against him, although it will be as 
 clear as light, you will see that the jury will not dare 
 to convict him. Even at this instant he is standing 
 before them. But enough of this ; let's go and take a 
 ride. Here, waiter, order our horses out, and request 
 the landlord to come up." 
 
 Mr. Anthony appeared. 
 
 " Anthony, I am goingto take this young Englishman 
 to see Belline, we'll take a gallop through the Park, 
 
 3—2 
 
3G EEC0LLECTI0NS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 and be back in two hours. We shall gain appetites 
 by our ride, and would like something nice for supper. 
 It is now eight o'clock, we should like to have it served 
 at ten. Can you get us some trout ? and mind there's 
 a cucumber ; you know how fond I am of it, and if 
 it's not too late for peas, let us have some." 
 
 The landlord (a most respectable man) promised all 
 this should be attended to, and we descended and 
 jumped on horseback. I observed that we had military 
 saddles, and that holsters were attached to each. After 
 the narrative I had just heard, I confess I was not 
 astonished at this ; nor was I so, when I subsequently 
 found that Sergeant Magrath had a sword on, under 
 his horseman's cloak. 
 
 We rode direct through the grounds at Belline, and 
 then went on to a road which led abruptly up the 
 mountains. There was a wooded angle which hid the 
 onward course of this mountain pass. Yokes walked 
 his horse round it; but no sooner were we out of 
 sight of the main route, than he uttered an exclamation 
 in Irish, and galloped on. The Sergeant did the same, 
 and of course I accompanied them. 
 
 " Ride faster, man, ride faster, we shall be missed ; 
 keep up, Sergeant !" 
 
 * But why this haste P 
 
 " You ride for your life ; if they overtake us, we 
 are dead men ; and even as it is, there may be parties 
 out looking for us ! Ride on, man — don't spare the 
 spur !" And thus we galloped on over six miles of the 
 most hilly road I ever met with. Vokes now pulled 
 up. " Harry, my boy, I think we've distanced them ; 
 
CARRICKSHOCK. 
 
 37 
 
 so now walk your horse a little, for we have a long 
 ride before U3. ; ' 
 
 " My good and respected relative, are you gone mad, 
 or what does all this mean P 
 
 "Simply this. I clearly heard the voices in the 
 stables of which you spoke this morning. w 
 
 ■ Why, you denied it." 
 
 " Yes ; fearful of alarming you. The fact is, they 
 assembled last night for the purpose of destroying me. 
 But as they thought it might prejudice Kennedys 
 trial, they put it off till to-night. At eleven o'clock 
 they are to shoot us as we sit at supper. The Sergeant 
 is to have his brains knocked out. In fact, every 
 arrangement is made. Let me see, I find by my 
 repeater it is past ten ; they are now beginning to 
 assemble, and will soon miss us ; so we have no time 
 to spare." 
 
 u But how is it they were so incautious as thus to 
 proclaim their plans ¥* 
 
 " They spoke in Irish, a language I happen to under- 
 stand. So there can be no mistake about it." 
 
 u Had we not better hurry on V 
 
 9 No, no. We are going up a terrifically bad road, 
 let us go as easy as we can, till eleven, and then, as 
 they will have discovered our flight, we must ride as 
 fast as our nags can carry us." 
 
 At this moment the moon burst forth, and we saw a 
 ragged, barefooted urchin, close to us ; as is usual in 
 Ireland, he at once joined the party, and entered into 
 conversation. Yokes whispered to me to be cautious. 
 This I thought a ridiculous hint, but still I attended 
 
38 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 to it, though his <*' Cave Caxem " appeared uncalled 
 
 for in the present instance. 
 
 "What is the name of the town yonder, Pat ?" asked 
 Yokes, who at once assumed an Irish accent. 
 
 " Where, yer Honour P 
 
 "Ah, now, can't you answer without making a bos- 
 thoon of yourself ? Sure I'm a stranger, and want to 
 know." 
 
 "I'm thinking it's Newmarket ! Is it through that 
 town yer'e Honour's about passing V — At this moment 
 the Sergeant's sword clanked. The Major uttered an 
 exclamation of annoyance. The boy, however, did 
 not appear to notice the sound, and went on talking. 
 
 We now came to a wind on the road ; round this we 
 had to pass, in order to arrive at Newmarket, which 
 made the distance considerably above a mile, though, 
 by cutting across the valley, the village might be 
 reached in three hundred yards. 
 
 " Where's the boy P suddenly cried the magistrate. 
 We looked round — he was gone ; but in less than a 
 minute we heard three distinct notes whistled from 
 the centre of the valley. " Hide, ride on, uow's your 
 time P And away we dashed at full gallop. As w r e 
 came in sight of the village, we saw a fine fire blazing 
 in the smithy, and lights in almost every window ; 
 but as we approached, the smith's shop was suddenly 
 closed, shutters were put up and every light ex- 
 tinguished. It was evident we were betrayed. " Keep 
 up — keep up, Harry — that's ail right P and we dashed 
 at racing pace through the town. We had just cleared 
 it, when a shot was fired. The ball went through the 
 Sergeant's cloak, but did not iujure any of us. When 
 
CARRICKSHOCK. 
 
 39 
 
 we Lad proceeded about a mile, the Major pulled 
 up. 
 
 " There, that will do ; we're safe now \ there is no 
 fear of their following. There are not half-a-dozen 
 men in the village, or they'd not have let us off so easy. 
 Depend upon it they are all gone to Kilkenny, to hear 
 their comrade tried." 
 
 Yokes was singularly gifted with perspicuity. He 
 calculated every chance, and drew inferences from ap- 
 parent trifles. It was thus he sifted evidence, and 
 seemed almost to foresee occurrences which to any 
 other mind appeared unimportant aud improbable. 
 
 We had not gone far, when Yokes suddenly turned 
 down a lane ; as a matter of course, I did the same : 
 the Major, to my surprise, jumped off his horse, and 
 beckoned Magrath to do the like ; then leading their 
 horses up to me, he asked me as a favour to hold them 
 for a few minutes ; of course I assented.- In another 
 moment the magistrate and the policeman were search- 
 ing about for something which they appeared to have 
 dropped. They examined about, and seemed occa- 
 sionally to pick up something out of the mud. At 
 length Yokes suddenly called out to his Sergeant, 
 "I've found it — I've got it here — this will complete 
 the evidence. If it fits his hand, it will at once con- 
 vict him. Oh, I'm so glad I've discovered it P At 
 this moment the moon burst through the clouds, and 
 I glanced with horror at the object which Yokes held 
 up with triumph. It was a human finger, or rather 
 half of one, evidently severed from the hand by a 
 sabre cut. " What have you got P demanded the 
 Major. "I've a portion of skull with human hair 
 
40 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 attached to it ; I've the stock of a broken pistol, and a 
 knife rusted with human blood," said the Sergeant. 
 
 " Providence preserve us P ejaculated I. " Where 
 are we V* 
 
 "In the Borheen of Carrickshock. Don't you see 
 the bank all broken where the struggle took place J 
 This dyke ran with human blood only a few days 
 ago." " 
 
 " Do let us go on ; I don't like this place — it makes 
 me shudder," said T. 
 
 "Well, as you like ; I've got all I want. Here, Mick, 
 take this finger ; we'll fit it on Teddy Malony when 
 we return ; you may throw away the skull ; but bring 
 the knife along with you. Come, we'll warm ourselves 
 with a sharp trot. We are only about eight miles 
 from Kilkenny, where we shall sleep. Allans!" and 
 away we rode. 
 
 We were within four miles of the city, when we 
 heard loud shouts, mingled with occasional shots ; an 
 extraordinary glare of light was apparent in the dis- 
 tance, and w r e drew our reins, and reduced our pace to 
 a walk, wondering what it could be. Even the Major 
 was puzzled for afew minutes; at length he divined 
 the cause. " I'll stake my head, Kennedy has been 
 acquitted, and they are escorting him home in triumph." 
 Another ten minutes brought us in full view of the 
 party, and, at the first glance, we read the correctness 
 of Vokes's supposition. Shouting, singing, firing, and 
 brandishing lighted torches, we beheld a body of at 
 least five hundred men approaching. Drunk and in- 
 flamed by passion, they were screaming forth alter- 
 nately blessings on Kennedy, and curses on every con- 
 
CARRICKSHOCK. 
 
 41 
 
 stituted authority. In the middle sat the released 
 murderer, who (many believed) had escaped his just 
 doom, in consequence of the fears of the jurymen. He 
 was seated on a small mountain pony, and was sup- 
 ported on either side by female friends, being wholly 
 unequal to sit upright, in consequence of the libations 
 he had indulged in; yet his fair partners still kept 
 plying him with liquor. An Irish bagpiper and a 
 wretched fiddler acted as a band, and thus the pro- 
 cession was made up. 
 
 On they came, roaring and capering about in mad- 
 dened ecstatics. By the glare of their torches, they 
 looked like demons ; and my heart sank within me, 
 when I considered how small was our chance of escape. 
 If they caught us, we should instantly be sacrificed. If 
 we turned back, our fate was no less certain. What 
 could we do ? In my distress, I naturally turned to 
 Yokes, and, to my horror, saw him smile at some 
 incident which had occurred amidst the approaching 
 crowd. 
 
 " We are lost ! " groaned I. 
 
 u Giggy-ma-gow," replied the Major; " be alive, and 
 there's no danger." 
 "What shall we do?" 
 
 "Follow me!" and, in one moment more, he had 
 cleared a low hedge beside the road. We did the 
 same, and, in another, we were all well concealed by a 
 stack* of wheat, which served us providentially as a 
 shield. 
 
 On came the fearful multitude ; they were now close 
 upon us — they were not twenty yards from us — the 
 slightest indiscretion, and we were dead men. It was 
 
42 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 a perilous moment. I do believe I trembled. The 
 infuriated wretches were, however, far too excited to 
 think of turning their eyes away from their hero ; and 
 I can now, in cool moments, believe that even had we 
 not been thus luckily concealed, they would not have 
 perceived us. 
 
 They were fully five minutes filing past us. They 
 halted a couple of minutes, to raise a drunken man who 
 had fallen, and seemed in no hurry to proceed. How 
 I outlived that period, I cannot divine ; my every 
 pulse seemed to stop, and I certainly did not breathe 
 — at least, such is my impression. 
 
 Without a word, the Major stealthily stole out, and, 
 about a hundred yards in their rear, jumped back into 
 the road. He and I succeeded in doing so without 
 attracting any attention ; but, unfortunately, the Ser- 
 geant's sword was loose in its scabbard, and, as his 
 horse sprang over, it gave a loud " clank." 
 
 The crowd at once recognised the well-known 
 sound; for an instant, they shduted, the "Army;" 
 in the next, they cried out, the " Peelers." They 
 turned round, and saw us by the bright moonlight. 
 Half-a-dozen shots were fired by them in as many 
 seconds ; but they were far too intoxicated to take 
 good aim, so none of the balls or shot touched us. A 
 party instantly quitted the main body, and started in 
 pursuit of us — a fact by no means pleasant, as these 
 men, when sober, can run for a short distance almost 
 as quick as a horse can gallop. u On ! on ! " roared 
 the Major ; and again we started at our utmost speed, 
 and soon left our pursuers behind us. 
 
 In half-an-hour more, I sat at supper, in Kilkenny, 
 
CARRICKSHOCK. 
 
 43 
 
 with my daring relative, who laughed at my agitation, 
 and endeavoured to assure me that it was " nothing at 
 all!" 
 
 " It may be," said I, as I drank his health in a 
 glass of old sherry ; " it may be ! But if ever you 
 catch me on such an excursion again — if ever I accom- 
 pany you on such a perilous trip — may St. Patrick 
 withdraw his protection from Erin ! " 
 
 BOSTON COLLEGE LJLBKaKY 
 CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. 
 
44 
 
 A QUEEE JOCKEY. 
 
 "1 AM glad you have returned to dinner," said Yokes, 
 as I entered his mansion, having spent the previous 
 evening at the house of a friend in the county of Chire. 
 " I am glad you have come back, for I wish to intro- 
 duce you to Mr. K , chief constable in the police, 
 
 one of the most intelligent and one of the bravest fellows 
 in that force. So run up-stairs and wash your hands 
 quickly, and join us at table, for dinner has been, 
 already announced." This I did, and w r as in my accus- 
 tomed seat before the fish and soup had been removed. 
 
 " Allow me to introduce you, my dear Harry, to 
 one of my best friends, and decidedly the best officer 
 
 serving under me ; Mr. K , 1 the Jockey !' "added 
 
 Vokes, with a laugh. 
 
 I rose and bowed, and expressed my gratification at 
 making the gentleman's acquaintance, though sadly 
 puzzled to make out the meaning of the soubriquet 
 which my father-in-law had added to his name. 
 
 Mr. K , I should say, rather stood down from his 
 
 chair than otherwise, for his height was barelyfive feet ; 
 his extremely rounded shoulders still further deprived 
 him of his proper proportions, and almost gave him a 
 look of deformity. His large and sinewy hands gave the 
 
A QUEEtt JOCKEY. 
 
 45 
 
 surest indication of considerable strength. His clear 
 blue eye, however, plainly bespoke an intelligence of no 
 common order — a talented brow — a rich and humorous 
 smile, won friendship at once, in spite of a certain glance 
 which occasionally crossed his countenance, plainly indi- 
 cating a strong and determined will. When seated, I 
 never saw a man whose intimacy I would rather have 
 cultivated ; when upright, I would have chosen him as 
 my defender against any odds. Like the tiger-cat, 
 though small, he was made to be dreaded, and, like the 
 creature in question, capable of overcoming animals 
 superior to itself in size. Such was Mr. K , a gen- 
 tleman still well remembered in the counties of Lime- 
 rick, Cork, and Tipperary. 
 
 Dinner over — our usual quantity of wine discussed — 
 the ladies left us, and then, as was the habit in those 
 days, and, indeed, to tell the truth, is still so, whisky- 
 punch was introduced — not Jamesons or Kinahan's 
 authorized drinks, but real, good, well-smoked potlieen : 
 the milk which then freely flowed in Cratloe woods. 
 The steaming kettle filled with hot water — boiling 
 hot — which was reckoned absolutely necessary for this 
 beverage, was placed on the table. The lemon, the 
 sugar, and the etceteras were all there, and our hearts 
 soon became warmed with the steaming liquor. 
 
 " Hand me the jug, my Jockey !" said Yokes, with- 
 out smiling. 
 
 Mr. K did so. 
 
 My curiosity overcame my good manners, and I 
 Could not resist asking our entertainer "why he thus 
 styled his guest." 
 
 " Don't you know Oh, it's a famous story ; but 
 
46 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 as we are only three of us together, sure K had 
 
 better tell it himself. Sure you'll tell it, won't you V 
 
 " Ah, then, Major, I'd rather not." 
 
 " Just because you're the subject of it ; but never 
 mind. If you won't I will, and then, you know, your 
 modest nature will be more shocked with my praise 
 than any self-commendation you can bestow on your- 
 self. So if it's only modesty which ties your tongue, 
 unloose it, and tell it to our friend — just as it hap- 
 pened." 
 
 " Well, then, as I must, I must ; for it's better to 
 narrate the simple truth than allow a partial friend 
 like the chief magistrate to colour up the sketch till he 
 makes me out a hero, a character I never intended to 
 play, nor one, which, to tell you the truth, do I ever 
 believe nature designed me to enact." 
 
 "Well, go on." He did so. 
 
 fl It is perhaps necessary to tell you, as a stranger to 
 the South of Ireland, that a very few years ago this 
 county, and indeed all Munster, was not only cele- 
 brated for its insurrections arising from political and 
 agrarian causes, but it had also won an unhappy cele- 
 brity from the cruelty shown in many of its personal 
 attacks on unoffending individuals. These fearful acts 
 were of daily recurrence. Not a night passed without 
 some dreadful occurrence of the kind. Here the 
 military force was of no use ; the local magistrates 
 dreaded to act. He who sought to arrest a murderer, 
 or to convict an offender, was marked out for instant 
 immolation. Assassination stalked along our roads 
 and across our fields. Some of the largest and best 
 defended houses were attacked ; no wonder, then, that 
 
A QUEER JOCKEY. 
 
 47 
 
 the local executive shrank from a duty which, earnestly 
 carried out, would lead to the wife and children of the 
 active magistrate becoming a widow and orphans on 
 the morrow. Our friend Yokes, here, braved every 
 danger, and to a certain extent awed the ' bad boys' 
 of this county ; bub, as I have explained to you, he 
 almost stood alone. Country gentlemen, unaccus- 
 tomed to danger, unpaid justices, naturally avoided 
 the dangerous services now required of them. The 
 Irish bench is filled, and ever has been filled, by a body 
 of brave and intelligent men — this all the world admits 
 to be the case — but daily to risk being murdered, your 
 family attacked, your property injured, was beyond 
 the fortitude of even an Irish J.P. 
 
 "It was at this time that the dreadful murders of 
 the O'Sheas occurred, one of the most horrible occur- 
 rences that ever took place in Munster. On this occa- 
 sion the house of a well-to-do farmer was attacked by 
 a numerous band of ruffians, the doors broken in, and 
 the house set on fire, whilst, as each member of the 
 family — even to a young child some five years of age 
 only — endeavoured to make their escape, they were 
 savagely butchered and thrown back into the flames, 
 in which they were reduced to cinders, amidst the 
 cheers and shouts of the savage crowd of assassins. I 
 merely quote this one instance of the boldness of these 
 lawless bands who paraded through the county, to 
 show how fearlessly they made their attacks, and at 
 the same time I mention it as it was the outrage im- 
 mediately preceding the one I am about to quote — 
 the one which made our friend the Major give me the 
 soubriquet of 1 The Jockey.' " 
 
48 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 Here we again replenished our tumblers, and after 
 one or two observations our little friend recommenced 
 his narrative. 
 
 "One day I was sent for in haste by Mr. , the 
 
 nearest magistrate, and instantly attended the sum- 
 mons. Here I found several of the first gentlemen of 
 the county assembled, debating with closed doors — for 
 there was little doubt that many of the servants and 
 retainers in gentlemen's families were in league with 
 the ruffians — how best to proceed in a case which had 
 
 just come to the knowledge of Mr. . The case 
 
 was thus explained to me on my arrival. Mr. , 
 
 it appeared, had received that morning an anonymous 
 communication by the post, stating that the farm-house 
 of his most respectable tenant was that night to be 
 attacked by a band of marauders, and " sawed (so ^aid 
 the letter) just as the Shays was sarved" in the neigh- 
 bouring county. A threat of this kind might have 
 been treated with derision and levity in more settled 
 times. But in those I speak of, it was looked upon 
 with just alarm, and the magistrates had now met to 
 arrange some mode of defence. 
 
 " After a lengthened discussion it was agreed that 
 myself and another chief constable should order our 
 men, one by one, to stroll into the farm-house named, 
 that they should go fully armed and provided with 
 thirty rounds of ammunition each, and that myself 
 and my brother officer should follow them in plain 
 clothes, and when assembled with our men (who would 
 make up a party of some twenty well-tried hands) 
 concoct the best mode of defence in case of the inform- 
 
A QUEER JOCKEY. 
 
 49 
 
 ation turning out to be correct. The council broke 
 up, and we each returned to our station. 
 
 " It was about seven o'clock when, in accordance with 
 my directions, I entered the farm-house in question, 
 where I found that all the men, as well as my brother 
 officer, had already arrived, but no steps had been taken, 
 as the arrangements were left to me, who happened to 
 be the senior in rank. 
 
 " We instantly set about barring up the windows and 
 fastening the doors. But after awhile we slightly 
 opened the shutters in order to enable us to fire at any 
 person approaching. We then placed the females of 
 the family in comparative safety, and assigned a post 
 to the father and to each of his sons, locking up in a 
 sort of a cellar ail the servants and labourers — being 
 well convinced that one or more of them were in league 
 with the marauders. 
 
 " Eight, nine, and even ten o'clock sounded, yet 
 nothing occurred to alarm us, and many of the party 
 began to smile at our apparently useless precautions, 
 when my sergeant, whom I had placed at the top 
 window, came down and told me that an individual 
 had just crossed the lawn in front of the house, and 
 entered an ornamental shrubbery, situated about one 
 hundred yards distant. My next in command derided 
 the information. But I too well knew the intelligence 
 of my sergeant to doubt the accuracy of his statement, 
 so I returned with him up stairs and looked out. The 
 window was beneath a sloping roof, so we could not 
 be seen by any one outside. 
 
 i( It was a calm moonlight night— not a breeze ruffled 
 4 
 
50 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 the leaves — all was still, and I had already began to 
 chide my subordinate for allowing himself to be de- 
 ceived by the dark shadows of the trees, when I 
 heard a slight rustle in the bushes, and presently the 
 form of a human being presented" itself. I rushed 
 down quickly, but noiselessly, and ordering all lights 
 to bo extinguished, I ran to the hall there to await 
 events. 
 
 " Presently a loud knock was given, and on nry de- 
 ma-nding what was wanted, a gentle and subdued voice 
 
 replied — * Ah, then, Mr. ' (naming the proprietor 
 
 of the farm) 1 my wife is suddenly stricken ill, and 
 will surely die unless I can get some spirit to give her 
 — only a noggin, and may the blessing of Heaven 
 reward you.' This wa3 said in such a piteous tone 
 that had I not been well on my guard I should have 
 been deceived. 
 
 " 1 I never open the cloor after dark," replied I, in a 
 feigned voice. 1 My master has gone to bed, and I 
 don't dare to disobey his orders.' 
 
 u 6 Ah, then, only for a moment — sure you wouldn't 
 let a poor creature die for the want of a single drop ! 
 Faith you might trust me — ain't I yer auld friend 
 Paddy Hogan, and no other ? 1 
 
 " Now it so happened I knew this Paddy Hogan well, 
 so I altered my tactics, and fastening the door with 
 the chain, I opened it slightly and peered forth. The 
 robber appeared delighted, and made a rush to enter. 
 
 " i Not so fast/ cried I, f you're not Paddy Hogan, 
 or any other honest man/ and I slammed the door to. 
 
 " * Bad scram to ye, but ye shall suffer for this ! 1 
 gaid the rujgan; and lie instantly discharged his bluu- 
 
A QUEER JOCKEt, 
 
 01 
 
 derbuss tli rough the panel of the door, and then called 
 out loudly (in Irish) to his companions to come on. 
 Only one bullet had passed through the entrance. So, 
 unhurt, I ran up to the first floor and prepared to 
 receive the ' boys.' 
 
 " Through the opening of the shutters I could now 
 see a large body of men — some disguised, some dressed 
 in white frocks, some with black crape over their faces, 
 some in their ordinary clothes, bub all armed with 
 weapons of one kind or another. The fellow who had 
 fired through the door was in front of them, reloading 
 his gun. He was about six feet six in height, and very 
 powerful. He was evidently the leader of the band. 
 
 " Confident of success — eager to see the blood of their 
 victims flow — the wretches now set up a shout of 
 triumph, and, at the signal of their ringleader, advanced 
 to attack the premises. 
 
 "I instantly gave the word, and half the policemen 
 (as I had previously arranged) discharged their carbines 
 into the approaching crowd. A. yell of fear-stricken 
 cowardice, of anger and revenge, a cry of astonishment, 
 instantly arose, and the robbers at once retreated into 
 the bushes, dragging with them some five or six men 
 whom our volley had brought down. 
 
 " This was looked upon as a victory by my brother 
 officer, and several of our men advised an instant sortie. 
 Shis, how r ever, I felt would be most iir, prudent, so I 
 at once negatived the proposition, and ordered those 
 who had fired to reload. Scarcely had they done so 
 when again the a ((aching paity emerged— increased in 
 numbers, and bt lengthened by a hope of vengeance, 
 
 Thsir numerical ^rce greatly eveet'ded our** 
 
 4-a -%;J. : ,: 
 
52 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " They commenced operations by a well-aimed volley 
 directed at our windows. Thebroken glass, and the holes 
 made by several of their balls, bore testimony to their 
 accuracy in shooting. One constable was slightly 
 wounded ; the party who had not yet fired returned 
 their salute — showing them that the house was well 
 defended. 
 
 " The robbers clearly perceived that they had but one 
 of two courses to pursue : at once to retreat, or by a 
 mighty effort to force their way into the house and try 
 a hand-to-hand combat, in which their pikes, swords, 
 and bludgeons might serve to oppose the fire-arms 
 which they now perceived we possessed. 
 
 " The latter plan was adopted, and, with the loss of 
 three lives, they succeeded in forcing the front door, 
 which they burst in under cover of a portico, whirl), 
 unfortunately, was built over it. In they rushed, and 
 now the combat became terrific. Our carbines, compara- 
 tively speaking, were of little use. In the dark we 
 did not dare to discharge them, fearing to destroy our 
 friends, whom we could not distinguish from our foes. 
 At this moment our proprietor fortunately appeared 
 with a lantern, and the sergeant threw open the 
 shutters, allowing the bright moonlight to pour in. 
 
 " We could now plainly see before us, and hurrying 
 to form a compact body, we discharged into them, 
 another effective volley. Seriously injured by the volley 
 alarmed at seeing the regular police before them, the 
 peasants beat a hasty and disorderly retreat ; they fled, 
 shrieking out, as our people fired after them. We 
 pursued them only through the portico, where, having 
 got fairly rid of them, my brother officer very properly 
 
A QUEER JOCKEY. 
 
 53 
 
 rushed forward and shut the frout door, which he now 
 thoroughly secured. 
 
 "But, oh ! who shall paint my feeelings when 1 found 
 I was locked out. If I was perceived by those within 
 I should probably be shot as a robber ; if seen by the 
 marauders my death was certain. What was I to do 1 
 All this flashed across my mind in a single moment ; 
 yet what could I do ? At this moment the gigantic 
 leader of the wretches passed me; he probably would 
 stumble on me, and as I was wholly unarmed would 
 murder me. Such was my idea. Besides, I felt that 
 if I let him escape I might be hereafter blamed. 
 After an instant's hesitation, the fellow turned round, 
 having evidently determined on joining his comrades, 
 who were now in full flight. He had only made two 
 paces towards them, when I sprang upon his shoulders, 
 and firmly clung round his neck. 
 
 " Surprised and terrified by this novel mode of attack, 
 screaming out in Irish that he had the devil on his 
 back, he hurried on his pace ; he evidently ran towards 
 the trees for the purpose of crushing me against them, 
 the only mode, and decidedly the surest mode, of dis- 
 lodging me. If he did so, I felt that I was lost. Yet 
 what could I do ? I was too small to combat with him 
 or bear him down ; I was too weak to throttle him. 
 What then could I do % I glanced over every chance 
 of escape ; the whole train did not occupy ten seconds. 
 I at once determined on my course of action. I gently 
 withdrew my right hand, and dipping it into my pocket 
 I drew forth a penknife, which I opened with my 
 teeth. Thus armed, I began to feel secure. In the 
 meantime, the great savage had endeavoured to shake 
 
54: RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 me off ; but all in vain. My life depended on my 
 tenacity ; I kept my seat, and defied the efforts of the 
 monster to get rid of me. 
 
 " We now approached a grove of trees ; my captor 
 already felt that he had me — he already calculated on 
 the certainty of my doom. But in this he was grossly 
 deceived. I threw my right arm round his throat ; 
 in it I grasped my penknife. In less time than I now 
 tell it I had cut his throat from ear to ear. The man 
 attempted to cry out ; I stabbed him in the throat and 
 the face, again and again, and as we reached the trees 
 (where he had hoped to immolate me) he fell a coq>se, 
 bathed in a pool of blood. I now dismounted, and 
 glanced at the giant to see if he really was without 
 life. His staring eye, his fallen jaws, convinced me of 
 the fact ; and now I would gladly have returned to 
 my comrades, but I did not dare to stir or make the 
 slightest noise. The band, though dispersed, had pro- 
 bably left some member of their gang in the vicinity. 
 If I attempted to cross the lawn I should probably be 
 seen and murdered ; if I endeavoured to call to my men 
 I should be overheard and destroyed. So I had only 
 to await quietly till daylight in my present position. 
 
 " To own the truth, I here passed four hours of the 
 greatest dread (if I may so call it) that I ever endured. 
 Those only who have passed a night alone with the body 
 of him whom they have killed, can imagine it. Look 
 towards the corpse I dared not ; his eyes seemed fixed 
 fiercely on me. His gaping throat seemed to reproach 
 me as a murderer. In a word, I felt terrified and 
 panic-struck beyond description. 
 
 " Oh, how I blessed the daylight, which seemed tardy 
 
A QUEER JOCKEY. 
 
 55 
 
 in its arrival. Xo sooner had the first ray of light 
 illumined the heavens than the door of the farm-house 
 opened, and a body of policemen appeared, with anxious 
 faces. They left the place in search of their chief 
 constable, whom they believed to have fallen a victim 
 to the marauders. On my shouting out to them they 
 suddenly turned round, and recognising me, gave a cheer 
 of delight, to which my heart warmly responded. Their 
 joy could not exceed mine. In a few moments others 
 came out, when we rushed together to the shrubbery 
 where the ruffian I had destroyed lay bathed in 
 his blood. He was at once identified as the chief 
 rebel of the province. By accident I had killed the 
 terror of the neighbourhood. Government sent me a 
 letter of thanks for my conduct on the occasion, and a 
 handsome present in money. Indeed, I was well repaid 
 for my lucky exertions on this memorable occasion." 
 
 "Don't call it luck ; it was pluck, my fine Jockey, 
 that carried you through," said Yokes. 
 
 " And conferred on me, as you see," said he, address- 
 ing me, " the title of ' The Jockey.'" 
 
 We drank his health, and soon after the party broke 
 up and retired to rest. 
 
•5G 
 
 THE TWO LOAVES. 
 
 As you approach the court-house, where the assizes 
 are being held, and long before you pass the threshold 
 of that important fane, you behold, with astonishment, 
 the different mode in which law is carried out in Ire- 
 land, as compared to the sister country. The English- 
 man, who has been accustomed to see the hall of justice 
 only marked out by a dozen well-dressed persons, and 
 a constable or two being about the entrance, naturally 
 starts with dismay when he sees, as is always the case 
 in Ireland, the court-house surrounded by thousands 
 of anxious and brawling countrymen, shouting gene- 
 rally, and all pressing for admission — a mob who would, 
 indeed, be dangerous, were it not that every avenue 
 leading to the interior is strictly guarded by a well- 
 armed body of military police. Hundreds of them 
 surround the building, while the interior would cease 
 to be a hall jof justice if one half the area, at least, 
 were not bristling with bayonets. The National Con- 
 vention never displayed a more strange picture than the 
 interior of an Hibernian assize court. That the Irish 
 bar and the Irish bench have displayed before the world 
 some of the very finest orators and sound lawyers that 
 ever graced the robe of justice, all must allow. But 
 in their proceedings there is wanting that calm dignity, 
 
THE TWO LOAVES. 
 
 57 
 
 that almost chilling pomposity, that distinguishes a 
 court of assize in England. Petty struggles are car- 
 rying-on in every corner ; brawlers are continually 
 being forced out of the hall. The lynx-eyed policeman 
 has just struck, with the butt-end of his carbine, a 
 fellow endeavouring to smuggle whisky into the dock. 
 The jury don't look happy; they evidently wish to 
 make a party affair of it. The barrister pleads hur- 
 riedly, and apparently in a state of irritation. He is 
 fairly tortured by the assumed ignorance of a principal 
 evidence. He loses his temper and his dignity together. 
 The sheriff looks in ; he happens to be popular, and 
 in the middle of a trial for life and death a cheer is 
 raised for that functionary, which explodes through 
 the building before the police have time to suppress it. 
 In fact, there is that want of silent dignity which awes 
 the Englishman as he enters a British tribunal. To 
 the high and everlasting honour of England be it 
 spoken, that no charge has ever been made, for a 
 century past, of political or religious bias ; on the other 
 side of the channel such things have been hinted at, 
 even during the present century. Who is that seated 
 on the bench — that little man whose sharp, intelligent 
 look seems to pierce through the very soul of a doubt- 
 ful witness] See how he grasps the subject ; how he 
 draws inferences from every trivial circumstance, and 
 how w T ith a cutting joke he at once sets down a flip- 
 pant counsellor, or causes a laugh through the court- 
 house by a bon-mot uttered at the expense of the 
 prisoner, who is fain to join in the general hilarity, 
 though he well knows the same lips will, within the 
 hour, charge the jury for a conviction which entails 
 
58 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 death. Yes, that judge lias ilie most perfect mastery 
 over every jury. How far he always wields his power 
 properly may be a question of doubt. At this moment 
 he is trying a case of sheep-stealing'; but before the 
 trial lias proceeded far he has called up the clerk of 
 the Crown from his seat, and asked him in a whisper 
 whose tenant the prisoner is. t; He belongs to the 
 
 lands of , my lord," replies the other, and down 
 
 he sits. Now, the tenantry of are those most vio- 
 lently and politically opposed to the family of his lord- 
 ship : so he at once becomes, as it were, a prosecutor 
 as well as a judge. The trial proceeds, and the case is 
 strong against the poor boy in the dock. That he had 
 stolen the sheep was clear, and the crime was in those 
 days never overlooked. The punishment was death, 
 and all foresaw that the wretched prisoner had but a 
 few hours to survive. Relentlessly did the judge 
 charge the jury. He minutely pointed out the strength 
 of evidence against the prisoner. He was showing 
 how fearful, in an Agricultural country, was the crime 
 of sheep-stealing, when the clerk of the crown handed 
 him a very small strip of paper. The judge read it, 
 and whispered to this functionary (who sits immediately 
 
 beneath him), " Are you quite sure, Mr. B F H I 
 
 am, my lord," replied the other; and the judge conti- 
 nued his charge. He went on in the same strain for a 
 few minutes. Then, turning round, he said, " Yes, gen- 
 tlemen of the jury, such is the crime of sheep-stealing, 
 and he who is guilty of it deserves his fate. If the 
 lad who stands yonder is a slieep-stealer, he deserves 
 to die. The evidence is strong and conclusive against 
 him. But, gentlemen of the jury, pause ere you con- 
 
THE TWO LOAVES. 
 
 59 
 
 denin one so young on such bad evidence. Let us 
 examine the characters of the witnesses ; let us examine 
 their motives ; let us clearly refer to their different 
 statements, and we shall find them conflicting and un- 
 satisfactory. There is evidently much bad feeling in 
 the matter, and I caunot but look upon the charge as 
 a conspiracy, hatched by a body of enemies to destroy 
 a very young man's life. Gentlemen, I must tell you 
 I don t believe one word of the evidence for the prose- 
 cution, and I consider that you will do well to acquit 
 the prisoner at the bar." The jury instantly acquitted 
 the prisoner, who seemed utterly confounded when he 
 found himself thus suddenly and unexpectedly ac- 
 quitted. I afterwards read the slip, which had been 
 torn in two. It merely ran, "/ was mistaken; the 
 prisoner is a tenant of your nephevfs ; his family ha ve 
 all votes." The picture may perhaps be recognised. 
 
 After a short time, and before the cheers of the 
 friends of the acquitted had ceased to rend the air, Sir 
 M. Barrington and Major Yokes entered the court- 
 house, and took their places amongst the counsel. 
 
 It was now clear that a serious case was coming on, 
 and the pressure in the hall was great. Every place was 
 rilled up ; some ladies occupied the sheriff's box. Silence 
 was at length proclaimed, and the prisoner to be tried 
 appeared at the bar. Xever did I see a poor wretch 
 afflicted with a worse countenance. He was duly 
 arraigned, and finally pleaded u not guilty. 5 ' Sergeant 
 
 Gr now stated the case, and a more fearful one I 
 
 think I never heard. The man was accused of having 
 murdered an old woman, who had long supported him, 
 and her two infant grandchildren. 
 
60 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 The evidence appeared stroug and conclusive ; but 
 the prisoner retained that stolid, stupid look, which 
 the most intelligent Irish peasant can assume when 
 determined to baffle the investigations of his superiors ; 
 and so the case went on, occasionally eliciting a sigh 
 of horror from those unaccustomed to such fearful de- 
 tails. The prosecution closed ; a momentary pause 
 took place. The counsel turned to converse together, 
 and a few persons left the court. At this moment 
 some provisions were brought to the unhappy prisoner, 
 and after due inspection (as is the custom) were handed 
 to him over the thin spikes which are fixed around the 
 dock. This was going on, when suddenly the voice of 
 Major Yokes rang clearly through the hall. " Sergeant 
 Reedy, stop those loaves. Man alive ! What does he 
 want with two loaves ? Wouldn't one be enough for 
 him ?" The bread that the prisoners wife was handing 
 to him was instantly pounced upon by the police ser- 
 geant. It consisted of two ordinary loaves stuck to- 
 gether, as we often see in bakers' shops, and therefore, 
 beyond the fact of the meal being expensive, there was 
 nothing to remark upon. The prisoner, however, 
 started and turned pale. The woman disappeared. 
 
 " Sergeant Reedy, bring those loaves here."' He 
 did so. " As long as you live, Sergeant, never allow 
 such a folly as this. Surely one would be enough for 
 three of them j* and while thus speaking, the Major 
 broke the loaves in two. " Oh, what is that — some- 
 thing binds them together 1" He tears them apart, 
 and out drops a pistol. Every one starts in terror 
 and amazement, except the magistrate himself, who 
 coolly examines the weapon. Then turning to the 
 
THE TWO LOAVES. 
 
 61 
 
 astonished judge, he coolly remarks, "Loaded up to 
 the muzzle, my lord and hands him the pistol. In a 
 moment the high functionary is struck dumb with sur- 
 prise, then recovering himself, he turns to the prisoner, 
 and sternly asks for an explanation. In a moment the 
 wretch throws himself upon his knees : " Oh, Yarry ! 
 Yarry ! The Lord be good to us. He has a charmed 
 life, and it's no use fighting agin him. Oh then, Major, 
 it must have been the divil himself who tould you 
 about the arms ; for barring Biddy, by the cross of 
 Athlone, there's not a living soul knows a word about 
 it. Ah, then, it's Heaven or the divil takes care of 
 Tom Vokes. Holy Mary be good to us — he knows 
 all." And the man's face expressed the greatest agony 
 of fear — if not remorse. 
 
 The judge pressed for a further explanation. 
 
 " Well, then, your honour's glory, it's no use to lie. 
 Bedad, he's too much for us boys. I'm guilty, and 
 don't deny it ; and it's to Major Yokes I owe my 
 being found out. The corpse of the old woman being 
 discovered and all that — sure I knew from the first 
 I'd be condemned. So I says to Biddy — Biddy, 
 agrah, — get Tim Haglan's big pistol, and put it in 
 the middle of two loaves, and when I want food hand 
 them to me, and by the holy Michael — great glory to 
 him — at the moment they condemn me, I'll blow Tom 
 Yokes's brains out, for he's the terror of all the county. 
 But oh, my lord, it's no use, he has a charmed life, and 
 it's not steel, or powder and ball, will kill him ! and 
 sure that's enougli ; I'll say no more," and the prisoner 
 relapsed into silence. 
 
G2 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 The case went on ; the man was committed, con- 
 demned, and within a few hours executed. 
 
 As I walked home with Major Voices, I asked 
 him most earnestly if he had had any information to 
 induce him to suspect that anything was concealed in 
 the bread % 
 
 « Nothing at all." 
 
 " And how came you to do so V 
 
 " Upon my life, I can't say. I thought it odd to see 
 two loaves handed in for a single meal — the prisoners 
 hands trembled as he held them out to receive them." 
 
 " And you had no previous suspicion V 
 
 "None whatever. But remember Dibdin's song 
 about the ' cherub that sits up aloft.' It is not the 
 first time that the observation of the most minute 
 trifle has saved my life. But come, Henry, don't be 
 so inquisitive. Walk quickly, it's dinner-time, and I'm 
 as hungry as a hunter/' 
 
 So on I hurried with my strange relative, he 
 whistling as carelessly, and apparently as unmoved, as 
 if no miracle (for as such I shall ever look upon it) had 
 just occurred, to save his life. 
 
G3 
 
 DANIEL O'CONNELL'S ELECTION. 
 
 In 1828 Daniel O'Connell publicly proclaimed his 
 intention of coming forward as a candidate to repre- 
 sent the borough of Ennis (County Clare) in the House 
 of Commons. The first announcement of this strange 
 intention was received with derisive smiles and a 
 general expression of doubt. But when the great 
 Agitator's measures were seriously commenced for the 
 purpose of carrying out this object, the then Govern- 
 ment got naturally alarmed. Aware of the extraordi- 
 nary influence which this celebrated patriot possessed, 
 well read in the violent and exciting oratory in 
 which the popular hero indulged, nothing less than a 
 rebellion throughout the south of Ireland could be 
 expected to arise for an occasion like the present, 
 when thousands and thousands of the peasantry would 
 be drawn together and addressed in fiery language on 
 those religious topics, those unjust distinctions which 
 then existed between the members of the Roman 
 Catholic Church and the Protestants of Ireland — a 
 subject which had for centuries caused blood to flow 
 and discord to lift her head throughout the sister 
 kingdom. 
 
 I was not. surprised, then, when I found that w# 
 
64 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 (who were quartered in Limerick) were ordered over to 
 keep the peace in the county of Clare. Right and 
 left, orders to the same effect flew about ; and long 
 before the day of nomination a force of some G00O 
 men were collected in and around the town of Ennis. 
 The officers of the regiment to which I belonged were 
 quartered in Clare Castle, our men and horses in the 
 adjoining village — being thus situated within two 
 miles of the polling-booths. As regarded our personal 
 comforts, I cannot say much for them, being forced 
 (as were all others) to share my bedroom with eight 
 or ten brother officers. But as the duty w r ould pro- 
 bably be over in a few days, w T e laughed at these and 
 other little inconveniences, and enjoyed ourselves as 
 well as we could. Not so was it with our worthy 
 Colonel, who, with the head-quarters of the regiment, 
 was also present. He had been to Sir C. D., who 
 commanded the whole force on this occasion, and 
 remonstrated with him. 
 
 " We are wretchedly quartered, General. Could 
 you not manage to improve our position V } 
 
 " Indeed !" replied the other. " I thought vour men 
 were remarkably well put up." 
 
 " So they are, Sir Charles ; but our horses " 
 
 " Oh, never mind them," replied the chief, who had 
 always been an infantry officer. " If the men are well 
 off, hang the horses." 
 
 " Hang my horses, General screamed the old 
 colonel, who had watched them with a father's eye 
 during two-thirds of his life. " Hang my horses ! No, 
 you can't mean that ! Hang my horses !" and suddenly 
 turning round, the old cavalry officer bolted out of the 
 
DANIEL o'cONNELL's ELECTION. 65 
 
 room, still reiterating the obnoxious fate to which his 
 troopers had been consigned. Some vowed that he 
 did so in tears, while others declared that he gave his 
 men an extra foot parade that evening, to show how 
 he undervalued them as compared with his horses. Be 
 the case however as it may, the General had unwit- 
 tingly wounded the Colonel in his most sensitive part. 
 He ate little that day at mess, and the adjutant, who 
 sat next to him, assured me he heard him utter, more 
 than once, " Hang my horses, indeed ! Hang my 
 horses f ' in tones of impassioned indignation. 
 
 The mess-man of the infantry regiment legitimately 
 quartered in the Castle (I think it was the Fifteenth), 
 with great ingenuity made up a mess for us all, and 
 really spread a very fair dinner before us, to which we 
 did ample justice. 
 
 On the clay of my arrival, just as we were sitting 
 down, who should come in but 0' Gorman Mahon, the 
 right arm — at least, so I believe he styled himself — 
 of Daniel O'Connell. He sat down with us and 
 delighted us with his brilliant jokes and truly amus- 
 ing conversation. He was the very antithesis to the 
 agitators left arm — Tom Steel, who was certainly, 
 though very clever and well-read, one of the dullest 
 and most melancholy companions I ever met at a dinner 
 table. The great Dan, like Garrick, represented in his 
 celebrated portrait, must have struggled thus between 
 tragedy and comedy : for more different but more sin- 
 cere supporters, I believe no man ever had. 
 
 The cloth was however scarcely cleared away, when 
 the 0' Gorman started up, and assured us he must be 
 off to look after political matters. In ten minutes 
 5 
 
66 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 more we heard him galloping out of the yard. We 
 were all pleased with his society, but from that day to 
 this I have never learnt who invited him. 
 
 The next day I was occupied looking up quarters 
 for freshly arrived troops. In a few instances this 
 was a disagreeable duty, inasmuch as many persons 
 objected to receive soldiers into their houses, and in 
 these cases we were compelled to quarter them on the 
 unwilling recipients nolens volens. 
 
 I particularly well remember riding at the head of 
 a party of artillery, to seek shelter for these men, into 
 the park of Barntick — the estate of the, then, Sir 
 Nathaniel Peacock. Sir Nathaniel was abroad — he 
 had been so several years, and probably would never 
 return ; so the house was closed up and left in charge 
 of a man and his wife. These two faithful guardians 
 eyed our approach with jealous fear, and on our knock- 
 ing for admittance, appeared at an upstairs window, 
 from which they demanded to know our business at 
 Barntick. 
 
 " I have an order," replied I, " to quarter these men 
 and guns on you." 
 
 " Divil a man comes in here, without the order of 
 the agent," growled the man. 
 
 " It's no use we sha'n't let you in," screamed the 
 woman. 
 
 " Come down and open the door directly. I've an 
 order here signed by the proper authority, and at your 
 peril refuse to admit us." 
 
 "To blazes with your authority, and yourselves too. 
 You shan't pass the door-sill till you've tasted of my 
 blunderbuss — not if you were the Lord-Lieutenant ; 
 
DANIEL O'CONNELL'S ELECTION". 
 
 67 
 
 so the sooner you're off the sooner yell get back to 
 dinner, " and with this joke, which he appeared 
 mentally to enjoy, the fellow slammed the window to, 
 and walked off. 
 
 Had I been in charge of cavalry or infantry, I 
 scarcely know how I should have acted. But here the 
 course was abundantly clear. I ordered a pole to be 
 affixed to a tumbril and backed upon the door, which 
 in an instant was shivered to pieces, while the worthy 
 old couple inside fled in alarm, uttering cries of terror, 
 firmly believing that we had thus entered by force with 
 an intention of murdering them. We had consider- 
 able difficulty in coaxing them back ; but at length we 
 did so, when the} r proved most useful in cooking and 
 supplying us with vegetables. They were paid for the 
 latter. Where those vegetables were obtained was a 
 question which rested entirely between Sir Nathaniel 
 and his care-taker. All I know is that we paid for 
 them. 
 
 On the following day I was sent off with despatches 
 to Sir Edward O'Brien, of Dromoland, and here I was 
 received with the greatest courtesy by that gentleman, 
 and thus formed an acquaintance which afterwards 
 proved to me most valuable ; since I have subse- 
 quently largely partaken of the liberal hospitality of 
 that excellent man — now no more — and enjoyed with 
 his sons many a pleasant day's fishing in the lake 
 which is situated close to this beautiful castle. It was 
 here that I saw for the first time William Smith 
 O'Brien, who, in after years, played so conspicuous a 
 part in the historical drama of Erin. 
 
 On the day of the nomination, I was desired to 
 
 5—2 
 
68 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 carry a communication into Ennis. When I arrived, 
 I was told that the gentleman I sought was near the 
 hustings. Thither then I turned my steps, and as long 
 as I live I shall never forget the sight that met my 
 view. I have since seen many, many elections. I have 
 even stood before them as the principal performer on 
 the occasion, but never have I seen so extraordinary 
 a sight as that which now met my view. At least 
 20,000 (I speak most moderately in Faying this,) 
 were closely packed before me. The great agitator 
 wa3 addressing them in that exciting manner so pecu- 
 liarly his own. His voice was loud — his theme 
 denunciatory ; but still a bright smile lit up his beam- 
 ing countenance. His neckcloth had been taken of£ 
 and tied loosely over his breast. His head was bare, 
 and his waistcoat thrown open. Before him was placed 
 a glass of water, from which he not unfrequently 
 sipped. His principal supporters stood around him in 
 silent admiration. The hustings pourtrayed a group 
 of men — men of first-rate talent — awed into silent 
 adoration by the eloquence of the orator. 
 
 But if such was the scene pourtrayed by the booth 
 before me, what shall I say of the crowd who listened 
 in mute attention ] Crammed into a small space — 
 jammed en masse — squeezed painfully together — not a 
 complaint was heard. Every eye was fixed on the popu- 
 lar speaker. The very ears of his followers seemed to 
 distend themselves to catch the accents which fell from 
 their loved leader. A low sigh might have been heard 
 throughout this large assemblage. Guided by his wishes 
 — even when the topic became inflammatory to this im- 
 pulsive people — still not a murmur — a murmur even of 
 
BANIEL o'cONNELL's ELECTION'. 
 
 69 
 
 of admiration — could be elicited. Quietly, silently, and 
 seriously, they drank in the words that were uttered. 
 Not a movement of impatience could be traced ; no 
 breath impregnated by liquor disgraced by its redolence 
 this living mass. The priest who had led in his share 
 of voters, had no occasion to watch his flock. He was 
 not more steady or attentive himself, than was his 
 usually wildest parishioner. Never did I see before, 
 mind dominate feeling so effectually. 
 
 O'Connell saw a mounted military officer in the dis- 
 tance. He stopped for a moment, pointed towards 
 me, and waving his hand, addressed three or four words 
 to the multitude. In the next instant a clear passage 
 was left for me right through the centre of the crowd. 
 Ten thousand men on either hand squeezed themselves 
 into a still more dense body, to afford me a passage to 
 the hustings, and effected this in orderly silence, and 
 without a murmur, at the single wave of the hand of 
 him who afterwards so powerfully and successfully 
 won their cause. 
 
 I freely confess I never felt myself in a more awk- 
 ward situation ; as an officer on duty, I had no right 
 to indulge in personal feelings, but having raised my 
 forage cap in acknowledgment of their courtesy, I 
 rode forward, delivered my mission, and gladly (with 
 a feeling of conscious shame at my utter insignificance 
 on the occasion) rode back as hard as I could to Clare 
 Castle, where I drank a great deal more than my wont, 
 to keep up my stamina and toast my polite friends in 
 Clare, while I related to my brother officers, again and 
 again, my adventures of the morning. 
 
 The result of this election, which on being confirmed 
 
70 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 in the following year, put Daniel O'Connell into Par- 
 liament, had been announced, and as the delight of the 
 Irish people knew no bounds, many foretold serious 
 riots. The breaking up of all concerned — of all those 
 assembled in Ennis, amounting to at least 20,000 
 persons, could scarcely be carried out without some 
 excesses. The declaration of the result was to be 
 announced at eleven in the morning, and O'Connell 
 had stated that, this over, his electors might follow him 
 in procession as far as Cahirnarry (I believe it is thus 
 spelt), the residence of Mr. James Black, where he was 
 to lunch and after that address them. Such a move- 
 ment many persons thought savoured of menace, nor, 
 indeed, could anyone believe that such a large demon- 
 stration could proceed and finally break up, without 
 serious rioting ; no one doubted this. 
 
 It was about nine o'clock on the day in question 
 that I found myself waiting for orders in the quar- 
 ters of the General, who had certainly on this occa- 
 sion acted most wisely, not only in the disposition of 
 the troops under his command, but also in the strin- 
 gent way in which he carried out those measures, 
 which effectually prevented any admixture of the civil 
 and military bodies, between whom, thanks to his pre- 
 cautions, not the most distant shadow of a conflict was 
 reported. The peasantry during the whole election 
 remained sober. Not a soldier was accused of being 
 drunk ; the wildest, the most incorrigible, acted alike 
 with sense and discretion on this important occasion. 
 
 A few minutes before ten Captain H. D., the 
 son of the General and also his aide-de-camp, an- 
 nounced the arrival of O' Gorman Mahon. Sir C. D. 
 
DANIEL o'cONNELL's ELECTION. 
 
 71 
 
 seemed puzzled by the visit — the motive for. which 
 he declared he could not devise — and seemed irreso- 
 lute about admitting him. But before he had time 
 to exclude him, in came the dashing Irishman, full 
 of importance. 
 
 " General, I called to announce to you the triumph 
 of our great leader — Daniel O'Connell has been 
 unanimously elected." 
 
 " I know it, sir," coldly replied the other. " I pre- 
 sume you did not put yourself to the trouble of calling 
 on me to announce a fact of which I could not possibly 
 be ignorant V 1 
 
 "No, Sir Charles. No; I came for a more im- 
 portant purpose. I came to ask you where, and how, 
 the force under your command are distributed, in 
 order that we may take such steps as may be necessary 
 to prevent a collision between your people and ours." 
 This was said with all the effrontery of a rival general. 
 
 Sir C. D. paused a moment, and I trembled lest 
 he might commit himself in his reply ; but I confess 
 these feelings were changed into admiration when he 
 thus answered : — 
 
 " Mr. Mahon, you have come to ask me a question 
 to which I feel, as the commander of a large military 
 force, I should on ordinary occasions be wrong to 
 reply. You come to make a demand which I feel 
 to be unauthorized, and which, consequently, I should 
 be fully justified in treating with silent disapproval; 
 but in the present instance I will fully and truly point 
 out the exact position of my forces." 
 
 Captain D. and I exchanged looks of surprise. The 
 General went on : — 
 
. 72 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " Mr. Mahon, so long as the peasantry — whom you 
 call your people — are quiet and well-behaved — so long 
 as they maintain the calm demeanour they have exhi- 
 bited hitherto during this election, you will never 
 know where my troops are ; but should they infringe 
 the law — should they break out in disorder or riot — 
 you will find them exactly at your elbow, Mr. Mahon, 
 ivherever you are. Charles, perhaps you will have the 
 goodness to see this gentleman out." 
 
 The great O' Gorman for once appeared abashed. 
 The General resumed his writing ; half an hour after- 
 wards every arrangement had been made. 
 
 We were drawn up in a boreen, or lane, running 
 parallel with the main road, but hidden by somewhat 
 high enclosures ; the end of the lane was barred across 
 by a stone wall between five and six feet high ; here 
 we remained, and saw the procession of the Great 
 Agitator file past us within three hundred yards. 
 Never did I see a more grand, a more imposing spec- 
 tacle, nor do I believe it has ever before or since been 
 equalled. Where so many well-dressed peasants — pea- 
 sants so orderly, so firm, so quietly determined — could 
 have been found in Ireland, was, and is, a problem far 
 beyond my powers to solve. To describe it would be 
 to do it injustice ; I therefore shall not attempt it. 
 
 Suddenly, while we were gazing on this imposing 
 spectacle, we heard the clatter of horses' hoofs, and our 
 men, who were temporarily dismounted, stood to their 
 troopers, expecting an order to resume the saddle, 
 when, lo ! who should gallop in but the O'Gorman 
 Mahon — his shirt-collar open, a wide green ribbon 
 round his neck ; his cap was bedecked with that 
 
DANIEL O'CONNELL'S ELECTION. 
 
 73 
 
 colour, and streamers of the same fluttered around 
 him, as he galloped in front of us, mounted on a chesnut 
 horse, apparently an Arabian. Taking off his cap, he 
 cheered as he careered along. But as this was no 
 breach of the peace we had no right to interfere with 
 him. Whether he came personally to show himself to 
 us, or entered the boreen by accident, we knew not, 
 but were equally aware that he had as much right to 
 canter down it as we had, so long as he committed no 
 overt act. 
 
 Just as he got to the extremity of our line he 
 reined up and addressed a party of our men ; whether 
 he was asking his way or addressing them politically 
 I know not, but our chief instantly called out, 
 " Stop that man, and bring him here." Away we 
 dashed at him, not doubting that we must take him, 
 as his progress was barred by the wall I spoke of. 
 The 0' Gorman, however, had no wish to be seized ; so, 
 putting spurs to his nag, which was not above fifteen 
 hands high, he boldly charged the wall, and cleared it 
 in the most gallant manner. We none felt inclined to 
 follow him — in uniform it would have been impossible 
 — but we could not refrain from giving him the en- 
 couraging cheer of old sportsmen when we thus saw 
 him take a daring and dangerous leap with a smiling 
 adieu imprinted on his fine countenance. 
 
 O'Connell addressed his new constituents. By his 
 desire they gave three cheers for " the army," (as all 
 military bodies are designated in Ireland). He be- 
 sought them and commanded them to break up and 
 return to their homes without riot or drinking. He 
 foretold to them that by such a line of conduct their 
 
74 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 future freedom would be secured. He thanked them, 
 and blessed them; then, jumping into a carriage and 
 four, he hastened on to Dublin and London, to carry 
 out the first act of that mighty two-act play which 
 ended in the removal of Catholic Disabilities. 
 
 The election over, we again returned to our proper 
 quarters. I therefore once more entered Limerick, 
 and returned to my snug quarters in Vokes's house. 
 
75 
 
 INSPECTION OF CONSTABULARY. 
 
 "Harry, my boy, Sir C. D. is to inspect my men to- 
 day ; will you come and see the inspection ?" said 
 Vokes, as we sat together finishing our morning meal. 
 " I don't think you've seen my men paraded." 
 
 I readily assented, but at the same time expressed 
 my surprise that a general officer should thus be ap- 
 pointed to inspect a civil force. 
 
 " Well, it is strange ; but as the order from Govern- 
 ment has come down, I've only to obey. It strikes me 
 very forcibly, that since the appointment of the last 
 two inspectors-general, who are both military men of 
 high standing, that the Executive are trying to turn 
 our constables into soldiers." 
 
 " Surely this would be unwise." 
 
 "Unwise is a mild expression ; it would be 
 the height of folly. We have plenty of soldiers in 
 Ireland to do soldiers' duty — trained men, who can, not 
 only put down any rebellion, but also add a charm by 
 their martial and smart appearance on any occasion 
 when they may be required." 
 
 " Are Government, then, determined to make yours 
 a military force V 9 
 
 " Faith, most luckily, they can't do so. I hold my 
 
76 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 situation under Peel's original Act, and hence the men 
 under me, appointed by the same Bill, are truly called 
 Peelers. I have one hundred of them under my im- 
 mediate command, bound especially to obey me, and 
 with them I do all my work. I must confess I wholly 
 rely on them. The new constabulary are too much of 
 the soldier and not enough of the Peeler for me. But 
 come along ; they are assembled by this time and 
 away we went. 
 
 Paraded on the strand, we found some sixty police- 
 men on foot and about thirty on horseback ; some 
 rode with long stirrups, some with short. Several of 
 the carbines, or muskets, which the infantry men 
 carried had evidently not been cleaned that morning. 
 Some of their coats seemed dusty, and their general 
 appearance (taking them as soldiers) was decidedly 
 slovenly and ill set up. As an adjutant of cavalry 
 myself, I felt strongly inclined to take them in hand ; 
 but I said nothing, and waited patiently for about ten 
 minutes, when General Sir C. D. rode up, and having 
 shaken hands with Vokes, proceeded to inspect the 
 men. 
 
 Sir C. D. was one of the best-tempered men in the 
 British service ; but his looks, I must confess, bespoke 
 no satisfaction as he rode down the line, followed by 
 a brilliant staff of officers and orderlies, who contrasted 
 strangely with Vokes's policemen. Having taken a 
 hasty glance at these men, he withdrew to a short 
 distance, and beckoned us to speak to him. 
 
 "My dear Major," said the General, "your men are 
 far from looking well — they are positively un soldier- 
 like !" 
 
INSPECTION OP CONSTABULARY. 
 
 77 
 
 " My dear General, it is just as they should be ; mine 
 is a civil, not a military force." 
 
 " But as you knew I was about to inspect them you 
 might have made them brush themselves up a little. 
 Look at their arms, their belts, their boots !" 
 
 "By no means. I was ordered to parade them 
 before you, and I do so with great pleasure. But allow 
 me to tell you, my dear Sir Charles, that the appear- 
 ance of some of the very men you blame is delightful 
 in my sight. Those men with soiled muskets were 
 engaged in a severe affair all night, and brought in two 
 important prisoners : those two men without belts 
 have used them to pinion a celebrated housebreaker, 
 who awaits my examination at the police-office : those 
 men with dirty boots crossed three miles of dangerous 
 bog this morning in pursuit of a notorious offender. 
 In truth, general, I may tell you, that a policeman 
 who really does his duty has but little time for dressing 
 himself up. The 'rough and ready boys' are the boys 
 I like, though I fear the time will come when military 
 appearance will supersede acute intelligence, and a well- 
 dressed constable be preferred to a sharp thieftaker.* 
 
 * It may be as well here to notice the fact that Vokes's prognos- 
 tications have been fully realized. Sauntering across a field in 
 the county of Limerick, some two months ago, I met a small party 
 of policemen, headed by an old sergeant whom I had known in the 
 good old times. With a respect by no means general in Ireland 
 now, he stopped his men and saluted me, and in a few minutes 
 began to converse with me. This was what I desired, as I was 
 anxious to hear some account of the present force from one of them- 
 selves. 11 How is it you have not caugfylfWalsh V asked I. 
 
 " Faith, then, I've done my besirj'but he's too much forme." 
 
 < 'And why ?" 
 
78 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 I foresee it all ; I regret it. But I have no right to 
 complain, since I have the undivided obedience of one 
 hundred men of my own appointment, and so long as 
 I have, the peace of Limerick shall be maintained, 
 and those who disturb it be instantly arrested and 
 punished." 
 
 w Sure, how can I get hold of him, cut off as we are from the 
 people ?" 
 
 u Cut off ? What do you mean ?" 
 
 M Aint we placed in barracks away from all information ? Aint 
 we dressed up in soldiers' clothes, and taught the manual and 
 platoon, instead of looking after criminals, as we did in the Major's 
 time ? Aint we ordered in the printed regulations to mingle and 
 become intimate with the farmers and the peasantry, and sure how 
 can we do that, when we are always forced to go about in full 
 uniform, armed to the teeth ? It's well we'd be looking, mixing 
 with the people at a fair or a pattern. The Lord be good to me ! 
 our very presence would spoil the fun, and no one would spake 
 except in whispers before us. It would be grand sport to see us 
 dancing with one of the colyeens." 
 
 1 1 Well, I'm sorry to hear this. But how do you employ your 
 time ?" 
 
 " Oh, then, we've enough to do. We go about patrolling in 
 parties, and walking about the streets with a constable's staff in 
 our hands. We carry out the census and emigration reports ; we 
 are writing three or four hours a day ; and now it is said we are to 
 inspect the weights and measures. Such are the duties we now 
 perform, and thus occupy the time we formerly devoted to the de- 
 tection of crime." 
 
 " But I suppose, Sergeant, you could still catch a runaway ? I 
 remember how famed you were, many years ago, for your running." 
 
 " Faith, I couldn't overtake a lame donkey now." 
 
 u Are your limbs, then, worn out ?" 
 
 u Far from it ; I never was better or more active. But a racer 
 could not run with a ton weight on his back." 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 ' 'Simply this : feel the weight of the new rifles we are forced to 
 
INSPECTION OF CONSTABULARY. 
 
 79 
 
 u Upon my word, Vokes, I believe you are right ; 
 but as I'm sent to inspect your men, what am I to do ?" 
 "Whatever you like." 
 " What shall I report ¥' 
 
 "Anything you think will seem good on paper. 
 You are at full liberty to state your views candidly, 
 and I hope you will do so. But deuce an inch I'll stir 
 from the path I've made up my mind to follow." 
 
 " Upon my honour, I scarcely, as I said before, know 
 what to do 1" 
 
 " Then I'll tell you. Come along and lunch with 
 me, and before we part I think I'll make you a convert 
 to my opinions respecting the efficiency of the police- 
 force you have just looked over." 
 
 carry about now. Sure, they are only good for show : they are so 
 heavy and so long, we can take no aim, unless we find a rest ; and 
 they are so difficult to load that a thief or murderer might easily 
 get away while a man was reloading his piece. I must confess that 
 we all like the old Brown Bess better." 
 
 "Then I suppose you'd prefer running after a man ?" 
 
 "Sure, how could I? I would be blamed if I threw my rifle 
 away. But its weight would entirely spoil my pace. Besides, 
 ain't I buckled up, with a military shako on ray head, and a 
 weight of ball' cartridge dangling before me ? Sure, how could I 
 jump with a long sword-bayonet dangling behind my leg ? Faith, 
 you know, I believe we look well ; but I shouldn't say we are of 
 much use." 
 
 I confess the picture staggered me ; the truth was practically 
 illustrated by the party before me. Add to this a review of the 
 whole system, which has changed men who ought to be efficient 
 policemen and detectives into grim, stiff soldiers, and the officers 
 commanding them into officers of the army ; the resident magis- 
 trates selected rather from Government influence than for deeds 
 of daring and intelligence, and, alas ! we find the prophecy of Major 
 Vokes painfully fulfilled. 
 
80 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 The General consented. The Major dismissed his 
 men, and we all returned to our house in George-street, 
 where I've every reason to believe the worthy and 
 excellent General was easily and properly ^Yon to adopt 
 the views of the chief magistrate. 
 
SI 
 
 SIFTING EVIDENCE. 
 
 An old couple had been murdered in their beds, and 
 the cottage in which they resided had been burnt to 
 the ground by the murderers. The whole country 
 heard with horror and dismay of the commission of 
 this most flagrant crime ; aware that it could alone 
 have been effected by a numerous band, organized, and 
 acting systematically. Some two or three crimes of a 
 similar nature had previously been committed ; this 
 being the case, it was deemed wise to strike at the root 
 of the evil. The Government, by the advice of the 
 local magistrates, proclaimed a reward of 300Z. for any 
 information which might lead to the detection of the 
 parties concerned, at the same time offering a full 
 pardon to any one (not being the actual assassin) who 
 would turn king's evidence, or, as it is styled in Ireland, 
 become an approver. But for several days these 
 salutary measures were of no avail. Though great 
 exertions were now made by every member of the 
 magisterial bench, who began to feel no small alarm, 
 since none of whom could say, whether one of their 
 own body might not be the next victim. 
 
 My friend Yokes on this occasion (as usual) said little, 
 and seemed to take the affair extremely coolly. But as 
 6 
 
82 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 I knew that he was hourly in communication with the 
 Government, and continually sending his force about 
 the country, I had little doubt that he was deeply 
 anxious about the case. 
 
 He had gone for a single day to visit some relatives, 
 and only returned on the following afternoon to a late 
 dinner, which we will suppose T was sharing as this 
 sketch opens. 
 
 " Any news, Harry, since I have been absent 1 * 
 "None whatever, except one or two visits from 
 county magistrate?, relative to this murder, and a 
 heap of letters which have arrived for you." 
 
 " I've seen the letters, and read them. As to the 
 case you speak of, I really think the less fuss made 
 about it the better." 
 
 " Do you think you've got any clue to it 1 " 
 " It is impossible to say ; but let us change the sub- 
 ject," and away he went into family gossip and public 
 news — leaving me no opportunity to cross-question 
 him further. 
 
 The dinner was over, and our first glass of punch 
 just discussed, — by the bye, Vokes had a strange way 
 of always mixing the best sherry with his grog — when 
 the servant entered and announced that the "Majors" 
 car was at the door. Now, as that worthy had only 
 just arrived, I confess I thought the announcement 
 strange. Yokes saw I was puzzled, and at once ex- 
 plained. 
 
 "The fact is I have important business to transact at 
 Eathbane" (his cottage, only one mile from the city). 
 " Will you accompany me 1 " 
 
 " Not I. You are going to run into some perilous 
 
SIFTING EVIDENCE. 
 
 83 
 
 affair, the clanger of which I don't feel inclined to 
 share. I hope I may not shrink when called upon 
 legitimately to risk my life ; but, truly, T see no fun 
 in these reckless exposures." 
 
 " Bah ! my dear fellow, there is nothing to alarm you 
 here. I only want to examine some witnesses, and if 
 you'll come, I'll promise you a bottle of the old claret 
 you profess to like so well." 
 
 " That alters the case ; but you must promise not to 
 walk off, and talk to your people, while I'm left to 
 drink my wine without company." 
 
 " Oh, as to that, if you don't object, I'll not leave 
 the table. But I have yet to finish my second glass 
 of punch ; I always take one extra when I come in 
 from travelling." 
 
 " How far have you been ? " 
 
 " Nabochlish avich ] Will you come 1 " 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " Let's be off, for I shall return here to sleep. The 
 family will return from Kilkee within an hour, so let 
 us make haste." 
 
 I arose, jumped on the car, and in less than half- 
 an-hour I was seated between a bright fire and a well 
 covered table — as far as wine and dessert went. For 
 some minutes my relative did not allude to the busi- 
 ness which had thus brought him out of town. At 
 length he rang the bell twice, and Sergeant Reedy, 
 one of his most favoured policemen, entered, saluted 
 him in military style, and then respectfully awaited to 
 be questioned or directed. 
 
 " You came in from Cahirconlish in charge of one 
 individual 1 " 
 
 6~~2 
 
84 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " I did, Major." 
 
 " At what hour did you arrive ? " 
 
 " At a quarter before three, Sir, this morning. I 
 was anxious to get in before daylight." 
 
 " And where did you find the individual ? " 
 
 " At the house of Captain F , who said he had 
 
 written to you." 
 
 " He has. Has the man told anything ¥ 9 
 
 "According to your usual orders, Major, I forbad 
 him to speak till he saw your honour yourself." 
 
 " How were you dressed V 
 
 " As a labourer, sir." 
 
 " That's right. I trust you were kind and friendly 
 with this man, and gave him all he asked for ?" 
 
 Yes, Major ; except spirits, which you always 
 forbid." 
 
 " Bring him in." 
 
 " Yes, sir and away went the Sergeant. 
 
 " These will explain to you my present business," 
 said the Major, throwing me over two letters. I 
 
 opened and read them. The first was dated Hall, 
 
 near Cahirconlish. It ran thus : — 
 
 "My Dear Sir, — The bearer, Paddy Macauliffe, 
 appeared before me this morning, and gave me such 
 important information relative to the late daring 
 murder, that I have little doubt that his evidence will 
 lead to the capture of the whole gang. I know 
 Macauliffe well, and I am sure he may be relied on. 
 He was present during the whole affair, but did not 
 take an active part. I therefore hope, that on the 
 conviction of these wretches, Government will let 
 
SIFTING EVIDENCE. 
 
 85 
 
 him have the reward. I will be with you on 
 Wednesday. 
 
 u Yours truly, 
 
 " William F ." 
 
 " P.S. I send him in under the care of Sergeant 
 Reedy." 
 
 The second was thus worded : — 
 
 " Col. L sends in a most important and respect- 
 able man, a tenant of his own, who it appears beheld 
 the whole of the late savage butchery from a cupboard 
 in which he was hidden. Being a voluntary witness, 
 and a man of some little station, he trusts that Major 
 Yokes will take his information, which may be relied 
 on, as quietly as he can, as the bearer, Michael Tobin, 
 is easily scared, and already feels alarmed at being sent 
 up by a policeman (William Kennedy) whom Colonel 
 L has directed to accompany witness to Limerick. 
 
 " Green Hough, Co. Limerick," 
 
 " Well," exclaimed I, as I concluded these epistles, 
 " I suppose you are delighted at thus receiving the in- 
 formation you so much desired." 
 
 " Faith, you'll see that in a minute." He again rang 
 twice, and Sergeant Beedy appeared, ushering in a 
 very well-looking countryman, dressed in the usual 
 frieze coat, corduroy breeches, and black stockings, so 
 generally worn throughout the county of Limerick ; 
 taking off his hat, and bowing slightly to Yokes, he 
 stood with a smiling face, and a preposessing coun- 
 tenance, awaiting his examination. 
 
 " You were at the affair near Kathkeale V 
 
 " I was, Major." 
 
86 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " What took you there f 
 
 " Sure I was drinking with my cousin, Mat Cannody, 
 and, by the same token, I owed him for a small garden 
 of potatoes ; and says he to me, ' Paddy Doody,' 
 
 says he " 
 
 " I thought your name was Macauliffe ?" interrupted 
 the magistrate, with a significant smile. 
 
 "And so it is, your honour," replied the other, 
 without wincing ; "but I was just then thinking of 
 this same Pat Doody, who was amongst the company, 
 who guv me a puck on the ear because I called him a 
 bad boy. Sure, my name's well known. Faith, thin, 
 
 it's odd, that his honour, Mr. F , did not mintion 
 
 it in his letter." 
 
 " Perhaps he did. But go on." 
 
 "Well, yer honour, after drinking for some time, 
 who should come in but Corney Macphail, and there- 
 upon there was a great whispering, and several of them 
 looked savagely at me ; and thin they drew aside, and 
 talked, and seemed to differ. Presently Carmody 
 comes up to me, and, says he, ' Aren't you a cousin of 
 mine?' 'I am,' says I. "Thin, sure, you wouldn't 
 betray us — faith we'll make it worth your while?' 
 and thin they swore me on the cross, and tould me 
 they were going to attack the ould couple anent Rath- 
 keale, and that if I'd join 'em they'd give me five silver 
 shillings, and excuse me the bit of potatoes I owed 
 him ; so I consinted, and away we went — there were 
 nine of us — but I only remarked five besides myself, 
 and thim same were Mat Carmody, Michael the Fox, 
 Martin Shea and his lame brother Bill, Pat Hogan, 
 and myself. That's all I recognised." 
 
SIFTING EVIDENCE. 
 
 87 
 
 * I thought you said Paddy Doody was there," in- 
 tervened Yokes. 
 
 " Ah, thin, I forgot it ; sure yer honour's right. But 
 he went off to Americky next day, so I did not heed 
 mentioning him." 
 
 "Go on." 
 
 "Well, when we comes near the house, Mat Car- 
 mody crept in, and made sure they were asleep; and 
 thin returning, says he, 1 Come boy's, let's do the work 
 at once. Sure, they're nothing better than heretics — they 
 haven't been in chapel these six months — so we need'nt 
 fear any harm will come of it and with that we 
 all rushed on, and with a great, big bludgeon Dan 
 Hogan broke in the door." 
 
 " I thought you said it was Pat Hogan ?" 
 
 "Ah, then, sure I'm confused — I meant Dan Hogan." 
 
 " Was Michael Tobin there ? You know him, I 
 believe ? " 
 
 " Ah, then, ain't he half brother to my wife's first 
 cousin % I know him well — he was not there, I re- 
 member well. He went that evening into Limerick to 
 bring out a coffin for Tim Sullivan's baby that died of 
 the small-pock, or the likes." 
 
 " Well, go on ; you say you attacked the cottage ? " 
 
 " Faith we did, but I had no hand or part in it, 
 barring the being there. Mat Carmody rushed to the 
 bed-side of the old man, and when he wouldn't tell 
 where his money was hid, Mat knocked his brains out 
 with a hurley-stick, and took his keys from under the 
 pillow. It was Martin Shea and his brother I think 
 finished the old woman ; but I can't swear to it 
 entirely, as there was no light in the room ; but I cer- 
 
88 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 tainly heard their voices while she was being throttled : 
 and then we came down, and some of the boys got tho 
 watch and the money." 
 
 " And then they burned the cottage ] " 
 
 " They did your honour." 
 
 " Did you see them do so ? " 
 
 '•'Sure I handed them the light, and seed 'em do it." 
 " They set fire to the thatch first — did they not 1 " 
 " That's what they did, Major, and sure the straw 
 was so ould and so dry, and it tuk fire directly." 
 " You will swear to this ? " 
 
 " I will. But sure they'll give me the reward they 
 promised, for my life wont be safe after the trial, and 
 all my own people will be against me, because I shall 
 have hanged my cousin Mat. Oh, then, Major, you'll 
 see to this." 
 
 "I'll see justice done — don't fear. Take this honest 
 man out, Sergeant, and let him have some supper. I'll 
 see him again presently. Take him out, and send in 
 William Kennedy." 
 
 "Yes, Major," replied Reedy, and away went the 
 policeman and the approver. 
 
 Yokes laughed heartily, but would not communi- 
 cate to me the subject of his mirth. Presently Ken- 
 nedy entered. 
 
 " Bring in Michael Tobin." 
 
 In a few minutes more, he stood before the redoubt- 
 able chief magistrate of police. 
 
 " You are Michael Tobin — a tenant of Col. L , 
 
 I believe. Do you reside near Green Plough 1 " 
 
 " I live on the demesne, your honour," replied the 
 new comer, who was dressed in a most respectable suit 
 
SIFTING EVIDENCE. 
 
 89 
 
 of clothes, and whose manner bespoke a far higher 
 station than that of the last witness. 
 
 "You beheld the crime committed, abont which 
 
 Gol. L writes]" The man appeared puzzled, and in 
 
 his agitation nearly crushed his hat between his hands. 
 
 "You may speak out. Kennedy you know, and 
 this gentleman is my near relative, so you may speak 
 out. Tell me, then, how came you over to the spot." 
 
 H Faith, Sir, I'm ashamed to tell the truth. But the 
 fact is — ah, now, sir, don't press me." 
 
 " Out with it, Tobin." 
 
 "Well, then, if I must tell it, I will, though I 
 wouldn't like it known. Sure I went over to coort the 
 servant girl. But when I got over I found she had 
 gone to Dublin, and so I was about returning to Hough 
 Green, when I heard a noise, and, on looking out, I 
 saw two men forcing the door, and as I had no arms 
 I hid in the cupboard in the servant's room." 
 
 " That was in the room upstairs I" 
 
 " It was so." 
 
 " Was it on the first or the second floor ? " 
 " On the first, your honour," 
 " You are positive ? " 
 " I am, Major." 
 "Well, then, go on." 
 
 " Presently the old man went down, and there was 
 a great scuffle, and he managed to wound one of the 
 men with a carving knife ; but the other fellow came 
 behind him and shot him right through the head, and 
 then the missus rushed down, and they shot her too." 
 " And what were the names of the men 1 " 
 " Bryan Quill and Pat Martin, of Pallaskcnry." 
 
90 RECOLLECTIONS OF AX IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " Could you swear to them ? " 
 
 " I'faith I could. Sure wasn't there a light on the 
 table, besides a great big lump of a blaziDg tire. I've 
 known the two men these five years." 
 
 u You are sure there were only two ? * 
 
 " Quite sure." 
 
 « Was not Paddy Doody of the party ? " 
 " Not he : sure he was out of the way — about the 
 the horse stealing affair in Tipperary." 
 " Was the house slated or thatched ?" 
 u Slated, your honour." 
 " That will do. You may go now." 
 " But the 300/., your honour ?" 
 w Oh, we can't talk of that till after the assizes." 
 " Faix, that's hard, too." 
 
 " Is it V Then suddenly turning round, in an angry 
 voice Yokes demanded — 
 
 " Do you remember the pattern, in May last, at 
 Patrick's Well f 
 
 The man, with a pale face and quivering lip, ad- 
 mitted that he had been there. 
 
 " Do you remember knocking down James Murphy 
 as you walked home with him, and taking his watch 
 from him 1 You called yourself William Dawson 
 then." 
 
 " Sure, Major," stammered the man, "it's not me 
 you're speaking of?" 
 
 " Bedad, my good man, it is ; and as you choose to 
 deny the fact, I'll send out for James Murphy." 
 
 " Ah, thin, you wouldn't do that. Sure, even if I 
 did the same, my present important testimony will 
 overbalance that. You wouldn't be shaking, by such 
 
SIFTING EVIDENCE. 
 
 91 
 
 an accusation, the truth of a witness who is about to 
 convict for you the two greatest rogues in the county ? 
 
 It was the master (Colonel L ) himself who tould 
 
 me my past faults (if I had any) would all be wiped 
 out by this good act." 
 
 " And so they would be if your tale were true ; but 
 it's a tissue of falsehood." 
 
 " Oh, then, give me the Book and I'll kiss it." 
 
 " Not I. I'll not hear you take a false oath. Have 
 you not sworn that you were concealed in a cupboard 
 upstairs f* 
 
 " And so I was." 
 
 "You are a perjured villain. The cottage of the 
 poor old couple was all built on the ground-floor. So 
 much for your truth. Kennedy, take him away, and 
 let him be strictly guarded till my secretary has had 
 time to draw up a committal for me to sign. No 
 speaking — off with him ;" and away went the false 
 witness. 
 
 Major Vokes now rang his bell twice, and Sergeant 
 Reedy entered. " Bring Macauliffe back." He did so. 
 
 " And now, Mr. Doody, are you not a precious scoun- 
 drel to try and hang five innocent men, merely to get 
 this 300Z. r 
 
 " Oh, Major, I swear " 
 
 " Silence, sir ! You have already told us enough 
 lies. You begin by calling yourself Macauliffe, when 
 I happen to know that your name is Doody." 
 
 " Ah, thin, you see, I thought on account of that 
 little affair at Tipperary you might not have believed 
 me, if I did not call myself by another name — that 
 was my rasin. Divil another had I." 
 
02 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " You said the house was thatched I" 
 " Didn't they set fire to it ] Didn't I see them T 
 " You did not, for you were hiding about at the 
 time. And there's another little fact you are mistaken 
 in. The cottage is slated, and not thatched, and so you 
 have committed perjury. Take him to the county gaol 
 
 at once, and as you return call on Mr. D , he's a 
 
 magistrate of Tipperary, and ask him to send an order 
 to the governor of the prison at once, to send him 
 over to Clonmel. The assizes open there to-morrow. 
 There — there — no talking. Prove that I'm wrong, 
 and I'll compensate you. Tell John to bring round 
 the car j" and the door closed on this forsworn 
 wretch. 
 
 u How horrible !" ejaculated I. 
 
 " It is, indeed ; but I'm sorry to say these cases are 
 not unfrequent." 
 
 " But do tell me ; how did you know that the cottage 
 was slated and built on one floor." 
 
 "Oh, then, don't be bothering yourself. I'll tell 
 you. When I said I was going to see my relatives, 
 I at once started for the spot, and examined the ruins 
 of the cottage in question. I then went on about four 
 miles, and discovered, I believe, the actual murderer 
 of the old people. He will be in our gaol, if my 
 fellows are sharp, within an hour. I have taken 
 measures." 
 
 At this moment Sergeant Macgrath, the best man 
 of the police, after knocking, put in his head, and 
 merely said, " Dillon is lodged safely, sir," and imme- 
 diately drew it back, and shut the door. 
 
Sifting evidence. 
 
 93 
 
 " I told you so," said Yokes. " But the ear is ready ; 
 come along and away we went. 
 
 The last prisoner was hanged on clear evidence, and 
 he confessed his guilt. The other two were trans- 
 ported. 
 
04 
 
 THE TEliRY ALTS. 
 
 In the year 1830 an agrarian system of aggression arose, 
 bearing the name of " Terry Alt." Whence this strange 
 appellation was taken it is impossible to say, though it 
 was generally asserted at the time that the guilty 
 parties borrowed the name of the most harmless and 
 well-disposed farmer in the county of Clare to confer 
 it on a very extensive and well- organized band of 
 marauders, who, under the plea that sufficient land 
 was not apportioned to the growth of potatoes and 
 grain, amused themselves by digging up and thus 
 destroying thousands of acres of land. By every post 
 Government received notices of fresh outrages of this 
 description. Bodies consisting of several hundred 
 armed men nightly passed through portions of the 
 South of Ireland — more particularly through the 
 county of Clare — and marked their footsteps by fresh 
 outrages. Yokes was, of course, as usual, very active 
 in suppressing these aggressions, and, indeed, the par- 
 ticular district over which he presided he kept com- 
 paratively free from stain. But daily and hourly 
 alarmed authorities rushed into Limerick to report 
 fresh agrarian attacks. By his advice, the troop (in 
 which I was then a cornet) was ordered over to New- 
 
THE TEERY ALTS. 
 
 95 
 
 market-on-Fergus, and there took up its quarters. The 
 presence of the military had the desired effect, and for 
 several days no Terry Alts ventured into our imme- 
 diate neighbourhood. In the meantime the magistrates 
 assembled, and after a solemn discussion agreed to 
 declare to the Government their utter inability to put 
 down the dangerous body who now threatened their 
 property — concluding their report by an earnest appeal 
 to the higher powers to send them further protection. 
 
 The reply to this was, perhaps, one of the most ex- 
 traordinary on record. It simply stated that the 
 Marquis of Anglesey, then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, 
 would at once visit the disturbed districts himself, and 
 that after personally making the requisite observations, 
 His Excellency would take the best steps at once to 
 put an end to the disgraceful state into which the local 
 magistrates had allowed the county of Clare to fall. 
 In a letter written by himself, he informed Sir Augus- 
 tine Fitzgerald, an old general officer of high standing in 
 Clare, that he would pay him a personal visit at his 
 hospitable mansion (Cahirgoran*) in the course of 
 three days, and further than that, after addressing the 
 Bench, and enjoying the hospitality of the worthy 
 baronet for one night, he would proceed to Cork the 
 following evening. 
 
 All was now confusion. In consequence of the 
 turbulent state of the county, every gentleman had, 
 more or less, sent away his silver plate, and other 
 valuables, to his bankers for safe keeping ; and now 
 began a general application for loans of such articles as 
 
 * I am aware that this mode of spelling may be incorrect, but 
 it conveys the word in sound. 
 
90 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 might be deemed necessary to place on table before the 
 impetuous Lord Lieutenant, who, if not received in 
 first-rate style, might naturally (after his differences 
 with the magistrates) look upon it as a slight Sir 
 Augustine's plate was in Dublin ; he would scarcely 
 have time to obtain it, besides the risk and trouble of 
 having it down for one day. So messengers on horse- 
 back were sent to every neighbour and relative from 
 Dromoland to Hermitage, to swell out this metallic 
 pic-nic. The parties called upon responded most hand- 
 somely, and when the noble Marquis dashed into 
 Cahirgoran Park, in a post-chaise and four, we were 
 ready to receive him with military honours, and the 
 hospitable General equally prepared to do justice to his 
 exalted guest by a show of first-rate entertaiument. 
 
 But, alas ! the deeply-irritated Viceroy was not thus 
 easily to be calmed, his "soul was in arms," and, 
 spurning the proffered luncheon placed before him, he 
 impatiently waited the coming of the magistrates. 
 They soon arrived, and after presenting a compli- 
 mentary address to his Excellency, made their report, 
 which was little more than an echo of their former com- 
 munication. The Marquis could scarcely hear them 
 patiently to the end ; when, bursting out, he addressed 
 them in a strain of unusual censure. He positively 
 averred that "he had marked each outrage as it 
 occurred, and clearly perceived that had the landlords 
 been more conciliatory, and at the same time more 
 firm, those outrages would have at once been put a 
 stop to. He had been received at every station where 
 he had been delayed with an enthusiasm, a demonstra- 
 tion of joy, which Irishmen alone could display. Yes, 
 
THE TERRY ALTS. 
 
 97 
 
 if he could only instil his own ideas into the minds of 
 his hearers, the South of Ireland would be as tranquil 
 as the most peaceable district in the habitable globe. 
 Such were his ideas, and therefore he could not but 
 regret that his counsel and advice had not been more 
 generally asked and followed; and he most reluctantly 
 confessed that he attributed much blame to the justices 
 of the peace in the county of Clare." 
 
 To this tirade no one felt inclined to reply, though 
 at least one-half of those present determined to retire 
 from the Bench ; parties holding the Commission of 
 the Peace in Ireland being not, as we have them in 
 England, selected from .the church, the army, or the 
 ranks of placemen in general, but, bond fide, the most 
 wealthy and extensive landholders, the most noble and 
 independent men in the country, and consequently 
 unused to be snubbed. 
 
 His Excellency now went out on the front balcony, 
 and addressed the peasantry. He first slightly chided 
 them for their misdeeds ; but soon breaking out in a 
 strain of exalted praise, he glorified the county ; he 
 magnified the people ; he showed that the peasantry 
 were the sole support of the land ; he talked of Irish 
 bravery and gallantry, of stalwart heroes and lovely 
 women — in a word, he threw his whole affections 
 amongst them, without reserving one grain for the in- 
 dignant gentry who stood around him. Need I add, 
 that each fresh compliment was applauded to the sky, 
 that cheer after cheer succeeded each other till they 
 positively became deafening : the blessings called down 
 on the " Hero of Waterloo " were so numerous that 
 the "recording angel" could scarcely have found 
 7 
 
98 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 room to inscribe them ; and while " Brave Angle- 
 sey's" name was still wafted to heaven on the breaths 
 of hundreds of the Irish peasantry, that most excellent 
 but impulsive chief retired, once more restored to 
 thorough good-humour by the Cade mille falthah of 
 the people he had addressed. 
 
 The offended magistrates by no means shared the 
 joyous or confident feelings of the high functionary ; 
 but as they had promised to partake of the dinner 
 provided for him, they sat down to it, and almost 
 in gloomy silence discussed the elegant banquet placed 
 before them. 
 
 The cloth removed, the loyal host arose, and 
 after toasting " the sovereign/ 1 drank as usual, that 
 of the Lord Lieutenant, dwelling on those bright and 
 brilliant points of his Excellency's character which 
 will live through future ages of history. To his 
 present opinions, he wisely and hospitably refrained 
 from alluding. 
 
 As might be expected, his Excellency rose to reply. 
 His ill-humour had passed away, and he now endea- 
 voured slightly to make up for his severe animad- 
 versions of the morning. But as he warmed on the 
 subject, he became almost enthusiastic ; and after 
 pointing out to them the devotion of the peasantry to 
 himself, the love they entertained for him, he earnestly 
 besought them to copy his mode of treating them, and 
 thus secure their warm affections. " Yes," added his 
 Lordship, in conclusion, "act as I do, and you will 
 equally gain the same attachment. You see how they 
 welcome me. They will then equally welcome you. I 
 
THE TERRY ALTS. 
 
 99 
 
 have but to hold up mj finger, and they at once obey 
 me. I will stake my life that I could walk alone 
 through the country unmolested. My presence would 
 bring peace amongst them. I only wish I could stay 
 amongst them a longer period to soothe their irritated 
 feelings. Yes, gentlemen, you may retire quietly to 
 your houses to-night, for Til pledge myself, from my 
 thorough knowledge of the country, that no one will 
 harm you. No agrarian outrage will be committed 
 while I remain in the south of Ireland." 
 
 Content with this comparatively gentle address, the 
 Viceroy sat down. He soon after rose, which was a 
 signal for breaking up. It having been predetermined 
 that his Excellency would hold a general levee on the 
 following day, those who were not staying in the 
 house at once took their departure. Few felt pleased 
 at the manner in which they had been spoken to. A 
 very few almost believed Lord Anglesey was right ; 
 but as they rode and drove through the splendid park 
 at Cahirgoran, now lit up by a bright moon, they 
 one and all agreed to attend the meeting on the 
 morrow. 
 
 Tired by the fatigues of the day, I gladly sought 
 my couch at midnight, and determined to take a com- 
 pensation sleep, as I had ridden into Limerick and 
 back early on the preceding day, previous to my official 
 duties. Need I then say I was soon sound asleep, and 
 enjoying that delightful slumber so peculiar to early 
 manhood, when suddenly a trumpet loudly sounded 
 under my window, disturbing my then delightful dream. 
 Could I be mistaken 1 No, there it goes again. " By 
 
 7-2 
 
100 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH TOLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 George ! It's ( boots and saddle !' " exclaimed I, now 
 thoroughly awake, and quickly jumping out of bed — ■ 
 for be it known to my non-military readers, that this 
 said " boots and saddle " is an instant summons " to 
 turn out and mount." 
 
 What this could mean I was fairly puzzled to guess. 
 Could any accident have occurred to our illustrious 
 visitor ? Almost impossible. Could any sudden rising 
 require our presence to put it down ? Not likely. 
 Could any of the magistrates have been murdered on 
 their way home ] No ; they would not have called us 
 out on such an occasion. What then could it be % 
 
 Eager to know, I rushed down to parade, and 
 
 there met my commanding officer (Captain D ), 
 
 who, far from affording me any information, seemed 
 still more puzzled than myself. The only clue he 
 could afford was a written order from Sir Augus- 
 tine, ordering us at once to proceed to Cahirgoran 
 House. 
 
 " It must then concern the Lord Lieutenant. But 
 in this case why so early. I clearly understood he was 
 only to be called at eight. It is now scarcely six 
 
 o'clock r 
 
 "We'll soon see," said D . So ordering the 
 
 trumpeter to sound the trot, we went off at the rate of 
 some nine miles an hour, and soon entered the gates 
 of Augustine's residence. 
 
 At a single glance we read the cause of our being 
 thus hastily summoned. The whole of the noble, the 
 beautiful park — more particularly around the house- 
 was dug up : the grass that had for centuries been the 
 ornament of the estate, the pride of the owner, was 
 
THE TERRY ALTS. 
 
 101 
 
 now turned most skilfully and effectually into a potatoe 
 bed. Not a sod of green pasture remained. Four 
 hundred acres of brown mould now disfigured the 
 approaches to the mansion. Between midnight and 
 five in the morning this leviathan atrocity had been 
 committed under the very nose of their popular ruler. 
 Before or since I have never heard of such a demon- 
 stration. I confess I never felt so taken aback. 
 
 Truly, Yokes had foreshadowed this. He had not 
 foreseen, or perhaps expected, such a wholesale effort on 
 the part of the peasantry ; but he had clearly and 
 invariably pointed out the danger of attempting to 
 humbug the people by blarney, or relying too much on 
 what is called enthusiastic popularity. 
 
 A carriage and four stood before the house as we 
 approached. His Excellency, accompanied by a single 
 aid-de-camp, stepped in. I can never forget his mingled 
 look of anger, disappointment, and disgust. He drew 
 down the blinds, and, ordering the postilions to drive 
 quickly, started off towards Cork without even be- 
 stowing the usual salutation at parting. We escorted 
 him about half a mile, when his aid-de-camp dis- 
 missed us. 
 
 Thus, then, did he who flattered himself (as many 
 others have foolishly done) that he thoroughly knew 
 Ireland, go away — leaving behind him not only a 
 practical admission that the local magistrates were in 
 the right, but in his first moment of anger, when 
 called up and shown the devastation which had been 
 committed, he had fully admitted the error he had 
 been guilty of in thus blaming those who were correct 
 after all. 
 
102 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH F;OLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 The levee was, of course, adjourned sine die, while 
 the Clare authorities, having thus triumphed, doubled 
 their exertions, and, by good management and a proper 
 degree of severity, mingled with strict justice, soon 
 after succeeded in putting down the " Terry Alts " 
 without the assistance of a Waterloo hero ! 
 
103 
 
 DABBY DEAE. 
 
 One of the most frightful murders which had appalled 
 the county of Limerick for some time had just occurred, 
 and as the victim was a female celebrated for her 
 beauty and her kindness of heart, the case enlisted 
 even more than the usual sympathy elicited on similar 
 occasions. 
 
 The murdered woman was the wife of a most respec- 
 table baker in Bruff, whose surname at this moment 
 escapes my memory, but will probably be better recol- 
 lected by those connected with Limerick in 1828, or 
 thereabouts. In Bruff the whole tale is well remem- 
 bered, and persons of my own age will not be found 
 wanting to confirm the details I now give. The Chris- 
 tian name of the baker was Darby — a common name 
 in the south of Ireland. His surname we will assume 
 to be Hogan, and having thus premised, go on with 
 our sketch. 
 
 After discussing the news of the day with Major 
 Yokes, with whom I had been breakfasting — after 
 partaking of a somewhat large portion of fried salmon 
 and eggs — for young dragoons are, or at least were, 
 celebrated for their powers of mastication — I rose, and 
 was about to leave the room, when my father-in-law 
 
104 RECOLLECTIONS OF iff IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 called across to me, and in a careless manner asked me 
 what I was going to do. 
 " Nothing very particular." 
 
 " Come along, then, with me on the outside car. I 
 am going to take a drive in the country — the fresh air 
 will renew your appetite. Run upstairs and take off 
 your uniform, put on plain clothes, and by that time 
 the car will be round." 
 
 I assented, and speedily changed my appearance to 
 that of a civilian. 
 
 " Where's the car V asked I. 
 
 u It's in the back lane — come along," said the Major, 
 putting on his hat and taking up the horsewhip he 
 generally carried. " Come along ; we shall be back 
 to dinner." 
 
 Now the last observation, coupled with the fact of 
 the carriage having been brought to a quiet spot be- 
 hind our stable, instead of the front door, somewhat 
 startled me ; and when, on going out, I found Sergeant 
 Macgrath mounted in full uniform in attendance, I 
 began to think over the many scrapes and dangers I 
 had gone through in Yokes's company, and felt more 
 than half inclined to draw back. He saw this, and 
 with loud laughter assured me that there was no 
 danger whatsoever — that he was only going to see 
 Tom Doolan (his senior chief constable, and a great 
 friend of his), quartered in Bruff. 
 
 As Yokes seldom deviated from the truth, I felt 
 quite satisfied, and jumped on the car, and away we 
 went. 
 
 In less than two hours we arrived at Doolau's quar- 
 ters, and here we found the worthy C, C. 
 
DARBY DEAR. 
 
 105 
 
 I now discovered that my father-in-law's object was 
 to inquire into the details of the late murder. 
 
 Mr. Doolan first supplied him with the most ample 
 accounts of it, and added that he had been out two 
 days and a night, accompanied by the wretched hus- 
 band. But all in vain. The police had taken up 
 several persons on suspicion, more particularly a pedlar 
 from the county of Cork ; but after strict examina- 
 tion, the magistrates had felt it their duty to discharge 
 them. 
 
 " What further course to take, I scarcely know. Tell 
 me what shall I do V ' said Doolan. 
 
 " Well, then, faith, do nothing at all. Go and fish 
 in Loch Ghurr, orshoot snipes in the bog — or make love 
 to the ladies, as you're a handsome fellow. Do what 
 you like ; but leave this affair alone, till you see mo 
 again." 
 
 Our friend, who was an active and intelligent 
 officer, scarcely liked being thus thrust aside ; but as 
 he well knew his superior, he only laughed, and left 
 us, directing the Major to the house of the bereaved 
 man. 
 
 When we entered, the poor fellow was in tears. 
 When called on to relate the circumstances of the case, 
 his grief was painful to witness ; and no wonder either 
 — for his wife, quite a young woman, had been a good 
 wife to him, and a more attached couple had never 
 existed. 
 
 The circumstances were easily detailed. On the 
 Saturday evening previous, Hogan and his wife had 
 taken a long stroll into the country, determined to 
 enjoy the fine weather. But as they were in their 
 
106 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 every-day clothes, they rather avoided the frequented 
 road, and strolled through the fields. At about three 
 miles from BrufF, in a solitary spot, about two hundred 
 yards from the road, they were suddenly pounced upon 
 by a gang of three robbers, with their faces blackened. 
 They instantly seized the lovely girl, whose screams 
 were loud and long, and she struggled so hard that it 
 required the strength of two men to hold her. The 
 third had seized Hogan, and held a pistol to his head. 
 Hogan, however — a man noted for his courage — 
 watched his opportunity, and knocked his captor 
 down, and instantly fled along the road, crying for 
 help. Presently he met some people coming back 
 from Limerick market, and when he told his tale they 
 instantly returned with him to the spot But they 
 were too late. The unhappy victim lay dead on the 
 ground, her skull battered to pieces by the blows of a 
 heavy bludgeon. At this sight Hogan cried out 
 loudly, and throwing himself on the body, fainted 
 away. The peasants, terrified and shocked, raised the 
 two in their arms, and conveyed them both back to 
 BrufF. Poor Hogan was confined to his bed, [occa- 
 sionally raving during the two days following. A 
 coroner s inquest sat on the body, and brought in a 
 verdict of " Wilful Murder." The poor woman had 
 only been buried the night before we arrived. The 
 husband seemed eager for vengeance, and suggested 
 many schemes to Yokes by which the savage assassins 
 might be discovered. 
 
 After a moment's pause, the magistrate turned 
 round, and looking straight at the poor man, said, 
 ? Hogan, you had better accompany me into Limerick." 
 
DARBY DEAR. 
 
 107 
 
 " Faith, Major, I'd rather not — for I'm still weak, 
 and in grief." 
 
 u Yes, I know that ; but perhaps your deposition 
 may be necessary to bring these murderers to justice." 
 
 " Do you then think you'll catch them ? Oh, then, 
 I pray to Heaven you could." 
 
 " And yet you hesitate to come ! It looks ill." 
 
 "Not I, Major ; sure I'm ready." 
 
 H Yes, yes, my good fellow ; but not in that dress. 
 You must put on your Sunday suit, as we shall have 
 to appear before the Bench : it would appear dis- 
 respectful to be seen thus." 
 
 "True for ye," rejoined the baker ; and he quitted 
 the room to change his clothes. 
 
 I saw by Yokes's eye, that he was pleased with some 
 result ; what that result could be I could not imagine, 
 but I equally knew it would be no use to question 
 him; so I maintained a strict silence, whilst the magis- 
 trate went to the window, and beckoned his sergeant 
 up, to whom he gave some directions (apparently im- 
 portant ones) in Irish, and then dismissed him. 
 
 Hogan now came out, dressed in his best. His 
 appearance was that of a quiet, industrious shopkeeper, 
 rather above than beneath the rank of his fellow 
 tradesmen . 
 
 To my surprise, however, Yokes was evidently in 
 no hurry to drive away ; for although the car stood 
 ready at the door, he asked Hogan to give him a crust 
 of bread -and-cheese and a glass of beer. Now, as I 
 knew that my relative eschewed luncheon, and posi- 
 tively disliked the food he had just asked for, I clearly 
 perceived his object was delay. The refreshments were, 
 
108 RECOLLECTIONS OF AS IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 however, brought, and slowly partaken of. Whilst wo 
 were thus employed, I heard a horse gallop away. In 
 a quarter of an hour more, we were all again on the 
 car, driving towards Limerick. 
 
 When we had travelled about two miles, we met 
 Sergeant Macgrath, walking his horse in the direction 
 of Bruff. This fairly puzzled me ; however, I said 
 nothing, while Vokes, stopping the car, jumped off and 
 held a few moments' conversation with the mounted 
 man. Then jumping up again, on we drove, Sergeant 
 Macgrath, to whose saddle I now perceived a bundle 
 was strapped, following us. 
 
 At length we came to the spot near which the 
 murder had taken place, when Vokes suddenly ordered 
 the carriage to stop ; then turning round, he looked 
 straight at Hogan, and in piteous accents cried — 
 1 Darby, Darby dear, what are you doing F 
 
 The affrighted man turned as pale as a sheet, and 
 leaped from his seat. Yokes now faced to him, con- 
 tinuing to cry out in a voice bespeaking agony, even 
 in the high tones of a female— r " Oh Darby, Darby t 
 surely you woidd not murder me! Did I ever wrong 
 you, ? Oh, Darby, have mercy on me /" 
 
 I really thought the Major had gone mad ; but 
 imagine my astonishment when Hogan, throwing him- 
 self on his knees, screamed out, " / confess — / confess 
 it / But how did I know you overlieard her — Oh, the 
 Lord be good to me t — them is the very words f* 
 
 " Handcuff him, Tinsbury ! handcuff him ! and bind 
 him to the car." In an instant our coachman jumped 
 down, and throwing open his top-coat, displayed under- 
 neath the green uniform of a policeman ; in an instant 
 
DARBY DEAR. 
 
 109 
 
 more his orders were complied with, and the wretch 
 was safely secured. 
 
 Sergeant Macgrath handed his brother constable his 
 loaded carbine, and fastening his horse to a gate, 
 jumped off, and accompanied the major and myself to 
 the spot where the outrage had been committed, 
 carrying in his hand the mysterious bundle. 
 
 We soon arrived at the fatal spot, when the sergeant 
 opened his packet and produced a pair of shoes. These 
 were those that Hogan had just changed for his boots, 
 and the several other articles of dress he had taken 
 off in order to don his Sunday suit, by the desire of 
 Major Vokes. 
 
 Macgrath knelt down, and having minutely exa- 
 mined the footprints, which still were visible in the 
 soil where the struggle had taken place, carefully fitted 
 them to the shoes he brought — they tallied exactly. 
 Vokes then verified them himself. The coat-sleeve 
 was turned inside out, and a large patch of blood- stain 
 found near the wrist ; the trousers had been torn in 
 the struggle, and sewed up again. Vokes now began 
 searching amongst the bushes, but without success. 
 On looking into a dirty dyke which ran by, he per- 
 ceived a piece of stick lying in it ; he desired his 
 sergeant to take it out : he did so. It was a short 
 bludgeon, probably the one with w^hich the murder had 
 been committed. The police magistrate now found 
 himself possessed of enough evidence to commit the 
 prisoner upon, and returned to the carriage. 
 
 Here sat the wretched man — pale as death, and 
 sobbing like a child. " Do you know this stick?" asked 
 Vokes, displaying the bludgeon he had found. 
 
110 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 "Take it away ! — take it away ! Sure if I hadn't had 
 it in my hands, I'd never have done it and he covered 
 his face with his hands, and cried aloud. 
 
 We drove straight to Limerick county gaol, and 
 there lodged the prisoner. 
 
 After dinner that day I asked Yokes, most earnestly, 
 whether he had acted on any information, or merely 
 on his own judgment. 
 
 " Well, then, I declare to Heaven, my dear fellow, I 
 acted entirely on my personal observation. There was 
 something in the look of this man ; there was some- 
 thing in his overwhelming grief that at once made me 
 think he was the murderer. Did you see how he 
 winced when I proposed taking him into Limerick ? 
 But he fell at once into the trap, when I recommended 
 him to change bis clothes." 
 
 " And why did you do so ? " interrupted I. 
 
 "Faith, I knew that if he had committed the crime, 
 he had done so in the dress he had on, for he said he 
 had walked out in his every-day attire : did you not 
 remark him saying so ] " 
 
 "Not I." 
 
 " Well, then, Harry, my boy, you'll never make a 
 good thief-taker, for it is by these trifles we come at the 
 greater truths. Did not you see me call in Sergeant 
 Macgrath 1 Well, it was to tell him to go into Hogan's 
 room, and as he left it to seize the clothes he took off, 
 and gallop on to see if the shoes fitted the marks. Had 
 they not done so, he was quietly to put the whole back 
 again. He met us, however, and told us they did. So 
 I thought myself justified in trying the ruse I did, 
 and through which the prisoner was brought to confess. 
 
DARBY DEAR. 
 
 Ill 
 
 " But how did you happen to know the exact 
 words ? " 
 
 "I chanced it. I knew his Christian name was Darby, 
 and calculated pretty accurately what the poor girl 
 would have called out on his assaulting her. Even now 
 I cannot be sure they were the exact words she used, 
 nor probably is Hogan ; but they were so like them 
 — so like the appeal she probably made — that he 
 believed that some passer-by had overheard them, and 
 thus in an agony of terror admitted his guilt. But 
 you'll see more strange scenes than this before you 
 leave the county." 
 
 "And what will the other magistrates say?" 
 
 " Say ! Nabocklish, my boy ; haven't they been at me 
 already ? Two of my neighbours have already been at 
 me, to blame me for thus taking up a highly respec- 
 table man, — while the principal magistrate, who lives 
 near BrufF, has galloped in and offered to bail this excel- 
 lent young man, whom he has known from his birth, 
 to any amount. I, of course, refused — murder is not a 
 bailable offence. So my friend has gone down to the 
 club-house, and is now probably engaged in writing a 
 memorial to the Lord Lieutenant, requesting his Excel- 
 lency to remove me from my situation." 
 
 Yokes wound up with a hearty laugh. 
 
 " And have you no fear that you may have erred ? 
 Suppose this man is acquitted V 1 
 
 "Suppose the skies were to fall ! Here's your health !" 
 and Yokes changed the subject. 
 
 At the following assizes, Darby Hogan was tried 
 for the murder of his wife, and convicted on the clearest 
 
112 RECOI/LFXJTIOXS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 evidence (though wholly circumstantial) which could 
 possibly be adduced. 
 
 The night before he suffered, he fully confessed the 
 justice of his sentence ; but to the last declared his 
 firm belief that Yokes was gifted with supernatural 
 powers. 
 
113 
 
 AN IRISH ELOPEMENT. 
 
 I happened to be dining with an English friend at 
 Moriarty's Hotel, who/in company with another tourist, 
 was en route to behold the glories of Killarney, when, 
 after the wine had circulated more than once, I pro- 
 posed an adjournment to Major Yokes's. 
 
 " Yokes !" cried the stranger — " Yokes ! Surely 
 you do not mean the chief magistrate of police T 
 
 " Indeed I do." 
 
 " Then I shall certainly not accompany you. I 
 detest his very name. He has been the cause of all 
 my misfortunes." 
 
 * How so T asked my friend. 
 
 "I don't say that he purposely injured me — I don't 
 say that he acted improperly ; but he was undoubtedly 
 the cause of my leaving the army, and, to a certain ex- 
 tent, causing my character to be defamed." 
 
 " How is that V 
 
 "Ah, do tell us." 
 
 "As I have said so much, I will. Call for some 
 claret ; for not one inch will I stir towards Yokes's — 
 not I. And I think, when you've heard my story, 
 you will say I am right." 
 
 He then commenced thus : — 
 
 " I had only joined the regiment about six months, 
 
114 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 when I applied for, and obtained leave for a fortnight 
 on ' private urgent affairs and having done so, left 
 the barrack-yard in high glee. I was dressed in a new 
 suit of mufti, and my heart was as light as youth, 
 health, and hope could make it. My friend Thompson 
 shouted out a wish that I might succeed, as I drove 
 from the barrack-gate in one of those old tumble-down 
 vehicles which formed the most respectable mode of 
 transit some few years ago — yclept a post-chaise — or, 
 as the driver denominated it, "a poshay of the right 
 sort" — a term applied to every article to be admired, 
 from a pretty girl to a poldoody oyster. 
 
 " But I forgot to explain, that at the time I speak 
 of I was quartered in this very city and that I was now 
 starting for Bruff, where I had been invited by Sir 
 Phelim O'Dowd — or the O'Dowd, as some of the 
 people called him — to pass three da} r s with him. Sir 
 Phelim, I must observe, had extended his hospitality 
 to me in the hunting-field, where I had won his heart 
 by leaping a high ditch (a ditch being nothing less than 
 a mud-bank in Ireland), and landing safely over the 
 heads of a man and horse that lay sprawling on the 
 other side in gallant style ! Sir Phelim was wholly 
 ignorant that I had met his lovely daughter at a race- 
 ball in Limerick, and fallen over head and ears in love 
 with her. Need I say I accepted his invitation, and 
 now hastened to profit by it. 
 
 u Arrived at Castle O'Dowd — a modern square build- 
 ing, covered with white plaster and embowered in 
 dilapidated verandahs, — I jumped out of my rickety 
 vehicle, and at once sought the drawing-room, where 
 the domestic forces were drawn up, evidently expecting 
 
AN IRISH ELOPEMENT. 
 
 115 
 
 ay arrival. Sir Phelim, after a cordial welcome, intro- 
 iuced me to his lovely daughter (little suspecting that 
 re were already acquainted) and his maiden sister, a 
 ;audily- dressed old maid of some forty-five years of 
 ,ge ; then turning to his butler (for footmen are 
 Iways called butlers in Ireland), ordered in the ' red: 
 ound,' invariably offered to mid-day visitors. 
 
 "My Louisa looked more lovely than ever ; the slight 
 leception she was playing off, in thus concealing, for 
 mrposes of her own, our former intimacy, caused a 
 nost becoming blush to mantle on her cheek ; and I'd 
 lave given half the estates of the Earl of Kingston — 
 ihat is, if I had possessed them — to have sent papa and 
 lunt out of the room, only for five minutes. 
 
 " Need I say how happily, yet how swiftly the hours 
 passed ! A stroll through the woods ; a noble banquet 
 w^ith tables groaning beneath enormous joints (as is 
 always the case in Ireland) ; a cooper of excellent 
 claret ; and some really good music from my Louisa — 
 I call her my Louisa, to distinguish her from her old 
 maiden aunt, who bore the same Christian name — 
 seemed all to pass in a few minutes ; and I could 
 scarcely credit it, when Sir Phelim's butler announced 
 midnight, and told us that our candles awaited us in 
 the hall. Such were the ways of the house. 
 
 " Elated by wine to a certain extent, and filled with 
 the most romantic ideas of love, I was endeavouring 
 to discover my room, which I had proudly insisted on 
 finding without escort — indeed, I believe I had rudely 
 told the old butler to mind his own business, sensi- 
 tively believing his polite pilotage was proffered under 
 an idea that I was not quite steady — I was, as I said 
 8—2 
 
116 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 before, vainly trying to find the door of the room that 
 the worthy domestic had indicated, when a very smart 
 female servant crossed my path, and bobbed an Irish 
 curtsey. 
 
 "'Come here, my colyeen,' said I, 'and tell me 
 which is my room V 
 
 " 'Faith, it's straight before your honour !' 
 
 '•' ' You are Miss Louisa's maid ]' 
 
 " ' That same !' says the pretty chambermaid. 
 
 " Now, wine may kill, it may enervate, it may con- 
 fuse — but still, in its early progress through the mind, 
 it affords inspiration. At least, so I found it. The 
 reply of the pretty Abigail at once filled me with a 
 train of new ideas. 
 
 " 1 Come here, ma cushla' (for I found a little native 
 Irish would win her heart) ; ' sure you'd give a note 
 from me to Miss Louisa V 
 
 " ' Is it me would do it V 
 
 '" Faith, then, you will. Look here, darlint ! I 
 don't understand much Irish, but, in plain English, 
 here's your reward, if you will;' and I held up a 
 sovereign. 
 
 " ' Will a duck swim?' inelegantly replied the smiling 
 Abigail. 
 
 '"Wait, then, a moment, and I'll do the thing 
 respectably.' (This was a sentence I had picked up in 
 Clare.) ' Wait, and I'll bring you the letter :' and 
 I rushed into my room. 
 
 " I tore out a leaf from my pocket-book — took out 
 my very best pencil-case (a gold one) and wrote : — 
 
 " ' Dearest Louisa, — Meet me near the front gate, 
 at eleven to-morrow night — a post-chaise will be in 
 
AN IRISH ELOPEMENr. 
 
 117 
 
 readiness — to bless the affection of one who means 
 honourably, but who, enchanted on a short acquaint- 
 ance, sets ordinary rules at defiance, the warm beating 
 of his heart having long banished the cold dictates of 
 his head. 
 
 6 Your adorer, 
 
 "The note done, I sealed it with a love-seal, and 
 delivered it prepaid, to the maid, who, for another 
 sovereign, promised to bring me a reply within half- 
 an-hour. 
 
 " My friends, did you ever await the reply to a love- 
 letter] No. Then you can know nothing of my 
 throbbing heart, my beating pulse, my feverish temples, 
 <fec. (fee. <fec, so well described by the poet. Suffice it 
 to say, the maid returned; and, having pocketed 
 another sovereign and accepted a kiss, gave me a note 
 redolent of musk and closely sealed, and ran away laugh- 
 ing. I entered my room to read the precious missive. 
 
 " With trembling hands I opened it — 
 
 "'My Dear Sir, — I really feel that I am acting 
 most imprudently. But love is a maddening passion, 
 which carries us off, even beyond the bounds of pru- 
 dence. Fie ! — I almost blush while I write the words, 
 and comply after an acquaintance so short ; but that 
 short acquaintance convinces me you are a man of 
 honour. I will be there. 
 
 ' Yours, 
 
 c Alas ! too much yours, 
 
 'Louisa O'Dowd.' 
 
 " Oh ! how rapturously I kissed the dear note. I 
 almost devoured it in my ardour, And yet, again, 
 
118 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 there was a nasty, selfish, intruding thought which said, 
 1 Is this conduct not too hasty 1 Should she thus have 
 succumbed on the very first attack V But no ! It i 
 was the effect of love ! omnipotent love ! and I hushed 
 every murmur — every scruple, as I fell asleep blessing 
 my own, my adored Louisa. 
 
 " Shall I say how the next day passed ? Shall I say 
 how my heart kept jumping up in my throat, and how j 
 I longed for the coming night ? My Louisa kept her 
 room. She said she had a cold. This was evidently 
 feigned to conceal her agitation ; and I amused myself 
 by watching the vain attempts of a Captain O'Hag- 
 garty, who sought to win the love of the Baronets 
 sister. The old lady repulsed him with scorn. She 
 evidently saw he was a fortune-hunter, and as such 
 treated him. She even appealed to me. But as I 
 was busy with my own happy thoughts, and as I was 
 by no means desirous of embroiling myself with the 
 best shot in Tipperary, I declined, to the evident 
 annoyance of the old maid, interfering on her behalf. 
 
 " After dinner, Sir Phelim, who had been more than 
 usually cordial throughout the day, stretched out his 
 hand and pressed mine ; then, with a wink and a know- 
 ing look, he drank — ' Success to you, my boy ; may 
 you succeed in love and war. I suspect you take 
 ladies like fortresses — by assault, eh, Harry, my boy V 
 then burst out laughing, and proposed to retire to the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 " There was a bantering tone about my host that 
 puzzled me. He seemed what is called i up' to some- 
 thing ; but what that something was I could not 
 divine. Louisa could, surely, not have betrayed me / 
 
AN IRISH ELOPEMENT. 
 
 119 
 
 The maid-servant might have been indiscreet, it is 
 true ; but then my abduction of his only daughter, 
 would surely not have been a subject of merriment to 
 her father. Even old Miss O'Dowd kept smiling ; 
 and the only one out of humour — for Louisa still kept 
 her room — was the Hibernian captain. 
 
 " At eleven precisely we all gladly retired ; and I 
 listened at my door to hear that the house was quiet. 
 In ten minutes all was silent ; and as my watch told 
 the half-hour, my bribed Abigail appeared, and with 
 caution led me to the garden-gate, where a post-chaise 
 stood waiting. She insisted on my entering it. I did 
 so ; and away went the maid to fetch her dear mistress. 
 Oh, how impatient — how anxious I felt ! Presently, 
 a light footstep was heard, and in another moment 
 Louisa was clasped in my arms. Her blushes were 
 concealed by a thick veil ; but, as I pressed her to my 
 bosom, I felt her beating heart. 
 
 " With a wild hurrah ! which I vainly endeavoured 
 to silence, away dashed the postboys — for I had four 
 horses on this occasion, — and away dashed the rickety 
 old chaise. My Louisa sank into my arms, and, for 
 the first time, I imprinted a kiss on her sweet lips ; 
 that is to say, making allowance for the envious veil 
 which intervened. She sighed ; she murmured ; I 
 could just catch my name breathed forth, when a 
 seeming earthquake roused me from my dream of hap- 
 piness. In the next moment I lay sprawling in the 
 high road. The post-boys had turned the comer too 
 sharply, a high stone had caught the wheel, and the 
 post-chaise, being fairly turned over, at once came to 
 
120 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 pieces, while the released nags galloped on for several 
 yards, the post-boys having been hurled from their 
 saddles. I jumped up unhurt. I rushed across and 
 raised my adored Louisa, who had become insensible. 
 In vain I strove to arouse her ; all was dark. I raised 
 her veil, but was unable to see her dear face ; I could 
 not really discover whether she was severely injured or 
 not. Fortunately, at this moment, I heard a horse ap- 
 proaching. I shouted with all my might ; and to my 
 great joy Captain O'Haggarty came up, and jumping 
 from his saddle, instantly lent his aid. My cries had 
 been heard, and a farm- servant approached. I ex- 
 plained in a few words my situation to the Captain 
 and he vowed to assist me. The rustic carried a lan- 
 tern ; we opened it, and cast the light on the face of 
 my Louisa. Ob, Heavens ! I can never forget the 
 moment ; I actually screamed with annoyance, while 
 the Captain rapped out his most powerful oath. In 
 my arms lay extended Louisa O'Dowd — yes, Louisa 
 O'Dowd — but not my Louisa O'Dowd, but old Louisa 
 O'Dowd, her antiquated and crabbed aunt. In my 
 vexation, I let her fall into the mud, from which she 
 instantly arose, seeming to have suddenly recovered in 
 the most miraculous manner, and began to pour out a 
 thousand maledictions on my now too apparent disgust. 
 
 " On the other hand, Captain O'Haggarty made use 
 of the most insulting terms, the mildest being traitor ! 
 seducer ! and abductor ! I could not explain without 
 compromising my Louisa, so I attempted no defence ; 
 but hurling defiance at him and his old love, I agreed 
 to meet him at daylight, at the eighth mile-stone on the 
 Limerick road, there to settle our dispute with pistols. 
 
AN IRISH ELOPEMENT. 
 
 121 
 
 " A few words, and we separated. He carried off his 
 venerable charge in triumph. Disgusted, irritated, 
 and somewhat ashamed, I sought the cottage of Tim 
 Sullivan, the master of the hounds, who, though it was 
 now midnight, I felt assured I should find still up, 
 imbibing his fourteenth or fifteenth glass of toddy. 
 
 " The worthy squire — or the Master, as he is styled 
 in Munster — welcomed me with a loud shout, and 
 instantly ordered in a reinforcement of glasses and 
 bottles. Then, turning round, he introduced me to 
 Major Vokes, a handsome-looking man, with a cheer- 
 ful smile on his face, who sat on the other side of the 
 table sharing his liquor,-£-seemingly nothing loth to 
 do so. 
 
 " I was delighted ; for, truth to tell, I felt a conscien- 
 tious scruple at asking Tim to be my second in the 
 fast approaching affair. Yet, what could I do ? It was 
 hard thus to call on a man with a wife and half-a-score 
 of children to embroil himself ; but, on the other hand, 
 if I did not get a second before daylight, O'Haggarty 
 would probably post me as a coward. I had no alter- 
 native — at least, so I had supposed — as I sought Tim 
 Sullivan's residence. But now a very proper person 
 sat before me. He bore a military prefix to his name ; 
 he was doubtless a military man ; the Fates had sent 
 him to my aid. 
 
 " For half-an-hour I sat, quietly enjoying my toddy, 
 — studying all the time how I should attack the Major. 
 It was a bold measure ; but I had no alternative. It 
 is true he was a stranger ; but among soldiers there is 
 always a degree of masonic brotherhood. So I now 
 only waited a good opportunity. Here, again, Fortune 
 
122 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISU POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 favoured me : Tim was called away by the sudden 
 illness of a favourite hunter. 
 
 " I lost not an instant, — I at once addressed my pro- 
 posed aid. 
 
 " ' Major, as a stranger, — I really want words to 
 apologize, — but the urgency of the case must plead for 
 me. Will you second me?' 
 
 " * I really do not understand you ! ' 
 
 " ' Simply, then, 'tis this — I am abrupt, that I may 
 make my communication before Sullivan returns — I 
 have agreed to fight a duel at day-break.' 
 
 " 1 And you wish to tell me this ? ' 
 
 " 1 Yes, Major, in the hope of inducing you to 
 become my second.' 
 
 u 1 Your second ! — ha ! ha ! ha ! — a capital joke. I 
 understand ! ' 
 
 " Now, for the very life of me, I could not see why 
 the Major should be so very merry. I am sure I did 
 not feel so. He surely could not have misunderstood 
 me. So I chimed in — 
 
 " 1 You understand me ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh, perfectly ! I'll be off now ; but I shall be sure 
 to be there, — at daybreak, I think you said i 9 
 "<I did.' 
 
 " 1 But I forgot the place and the name of your an- 
 tagonist. You must tell me both, as I must be in 
 time.' 
 
 " ' My antagonist is Captain O'Haggarty.' 
 
 " ' Oh ! No wonder you are frightened ; he's the best 
 shot in Ireland.' 
 
 " ' I'm not frightened, Major ; but under the peculiar 
 circumstances ' 
 
AN IRISH ELOPEMENT. 
 
 123 
 
 " 1 1 understand !' replied Yokes ; and again lie burst 
 out laughing. c Where is the rendezvous 1 9 
 
 " ' The eighth mile-stone on the Limerick road.' 
 
 " 6 That's right.' He then took out a small pocket- 
 book and noted down all the particulars. Again he 
 smiled, and rose, saying, ' We shall be sure to be 
 there,' and left the room. 
 
 " That Yokes took notes did not surprise me. Many- 
 men with bad memories invariably do so. That 
 his coming responsibility should induce him to leave 
 his grog, I could understand, though it vexed me. 
 But that he should not seek to know the cause of 
 quarrel, or any particulars of the affair, I confess 
 astonished me ; while the words * We will be there ' 
 puzzled me. But, perhaps, as an old hand, he intended 
 to bring a surgeon, or — as is often the case in Ireland 
 — a friend, to see the fun. 
 
 " I passed three long hours with Tim. I borrowed 
 his pistols, but gave him no hint of my projected 
 rencontre. I drank little ; but chatted away till four 
 o'clock, when Sullivan proposed to retire. We did so. 
 In half-an-hour more I had slipped out, and was 
 already on my way to the Limerick road. 
 
 " Although daylight had scarcely fully lighted up the 
 heavens, yet O'Haggarty and a fierce-looking friend 
 awaited my coming with bloodthirsty impatience. I 
 confess I felt somewhat small in thus approaching 
 him, unaccompanied by a second. 
 
 " ' Where is your friend, sir ? I thought you under- 
 stood the rules of these affairs.' 
 
 " ( And so I do ; he'll be here directly.' 
 
124 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " 1 May I ask who acts on your side T demanded the 
 fierce looking man. 
 
 u 1 Major Yokes,' said I. 
 
 " ' What ! is that your game V shouted he. 
 
 " ' Coward ! — poltroon !' roared the captain. 
 
 u At* that moment Vokes galloped up, accompanied 
 by four mounted policemen, and away bolted the man 
 with the red whiskers. 
 
 " 1 1 arrest you both ! Take their arms from them, 
 Sergeant Hennessy/ said the Major. ' Gentlemen, 
 you must accompany me.' 
 
 u 1 Infamous traitor P roared O'Haggarty, frowning 
 at me and shaking his fist. 1 Dirty coward ! — whew !' 
 and he gave a contemptuous whistle. 
 
 " 'Come along, gentlemen ; you must instantly accom- 
 pany me to Sir Phelim O'Dowd, who, as the nearest 
 magistrate, will, on my information, bind you both 
 over to keep the peace/ 
 
 " Shall I go on with my tale 1 No ; it is too painful ! 
 I soon discovered that Major Vokes was at the 
 head of the police ; and, consequently, my application 
 to him was quoted as an unmanly mode of avoiding 
 this duel O'Haggarty first posted me as a coward ; 
 then ran away with the old spinster. Miss Louisa 
 O'Dowd the younger with truth declared that she knew 
 nothing at all of the affair ; but cruelly added — 1 the 
 detestable coward !' My brother officers sent me to 
 Coventry ; and, in a fit of despair, I sold out of the 
 army and became a settler in Canada ; where I after- 
 wards shot my best friend, because he foolishly, when 
 elated by wine, jeered me about old maids and police 
 inspectors." 
 
THE FAERIEE'S SHOP. 
 
 Did you ever ride on an Irish Outside J aunting Car 1 
 If you have, you may well feel for me — coming in from 
 Croom to Limerick on a vehicle of the kind ; not that 
 the great jeopardy of this conveyance is not greatly 
 avoided in the country ; for although I admit there is 
 occasionally a fear of being shaken off over rough 
 macadam, or thrown into a deep ditch, yet your limbs 
 are not in momentary fear of being crushed by a pass- 
 ing Jehu. On the roads of Ireland, there is no crowd 
 of equipages. Centralization has done its best, and 
 all the respectability of the country flock to Dublin. 
 
 This is a long exordium ; but never mind, — better 
 late than never. So, revenons ct nos moutons. 
 
 I was, as I said before, travelling from Croom to 
 Limerick on an outside car with my friend Major 
 Vokes, the celebrated chief magistrate of this county — 
 a functionary about whom as many tales are told in 
 Munster as are related of Robin Hood in Nottingham- 
 shire. We were jogging along, truth to tell, half asleep, 
 when Corporal Mul reedy — a policeman in livery, who 
 was driving the carriage — turned round and gave us 
 the pleasing information that Master Bob (the Major s 
 favourite horse) had cast a shoe, and that consequently 
 it would be impossible to reach the city in time for the 
 
126 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 Sessions then going on. After a short colloquy in Irish, 
 our driver informed his master that there was a smitliee 
 some half-a-mile down a borheen, and, by his chiefs 
 orders, to that smitliee we now proceeded. 
 
 As we neared the forge we perceived to our astonish- 
 ment, or I should rather say mine (for the police- 
 major seemed as little subject to surprise as a Red 
 Indian), that several groups were collected around the 
 shed we sought — why or wherefore, of course we 
 could not imagine ; nor, indeed, did Vokes seem to 
 notice the circumstance in any marked manner. 
 
 Our limping animal, and the shoe in the driver's 
 hand, told our tale and expressed our want. The 
 crowd made way for us ; and we were soon ensconced 
 in the farriers shop, indulging in a pleasant chat. 
 
 '• You've a large assemblage to-day. Is it a fair or 
 pattern J M asked Yokes. 
 
 " By no means," replied the shoer. 
 
 " Are you a friend of Tom Yokes !" suddenly de- 
 manded the farrier, after a pause. 
 
 " Me ? by no means. I give you my honour I never 
 saw him in my life ; and I've every reason to believe 
 I am his worst enemy." 
 
 I was about to interfere — a look from Yokes silenced 
 me. 
 
 " God bless you, for that same !" said the farrier. 
 " It's all right then, and I'll tell you the truth. This 
 scoundrel, this blackguard of the world — may the curse 
 of Cromwell be on him ! — caused my uncle to be hanged 
 for being concerned in the 'rection when the Blenner- 
 hassets were killed. Well, there's myself and Carmody, 
 yonder, and Tom Grady, of Carrickonlish — whose 
 
THE FARRIER^ SHOP. 
 
 127 
 
 brother he killed because they burned the gauger when 
 he carae to take Carmody's cattle, — and two or three 
 other boys, and we've all sworn — by this and by that, 
 on the Holy — that we'll kill Tom Yokes, and it's 
 many a day we've looked out for him. But to-day 
 we'll have him — glory to Ireland ! — we'll give him a 
 puck that'll send him to the grave of Going. Sure 
 he's coming in at two o'clock to-day, and we'll tache 
 him a lisson in manners." 
 
 I stood and trembled, — I confess I did not like it. 
 Not so Yokes, who seemed to enjoy the joke, and 
 replied, with a smile — 
 
 " Do you know his person f* 
 
 " Divil a bit ; I nivir wish to see him till I take my 
 shot." 
 
 " Well, he's about my size. But, as to your ven- 
 geance, you must delay it for two or three hours ; for 
 just before I left the main road, I saw Major Yokes 
 going into Limerick well guarded." 
 
 " Sure that's provoking ! What will we do f 
 
 " Well," chimed in the fearless functionary, " I'll tell 
 you how you can manage it : let Carmody, Grady, 
 and yourself, be in waiting for him as he comes out. 
 There's the i Brian Borholm ;' be there at five o'clock, 
 and I'll stake my life" he'll come out unattended. 
 See that your guns are well charged, and mind no 
 one but the ringleaders are there. I'll not be far off'. 
 But now the horse is shod I'll hasten on ; and recollect 
 what I've told you. Good-bye, boys," roared Yokes ; 
 and away we drove. 
 
 I would have spoken to him — I would have expos- 
 tulated — I would have asked an explanation — but he 
 
128 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH FOLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 was equally deaf to all. He laughed, told anecdotes, 
 sang, talked in Irish with the corporal ; but not a 
 word on the subject of our late encounter would he 
 deign to bestow on me. 
 
 At three o'clock the Sessions closed ; and, after 
 partaking of a hurried luncheon, the car came round 
 to the door, and the Major requested me to mount. It 
 was now past four. 
 
 I rather demurred to the proposition, and tried to 
 show the folly of driving unarmed and unattended into 
 a nest of murderers. 
 
 " Gighy-ma gow," said Vokes ; and as I well knew 
 this meant an expression of unalterable determination, 
 I foresaw the folly of reasoning with him. To attempt 
 to dissuade him from this perilous journey, I felt was 
 a task beyond my powers — to allow him to dare the 
 dangers alone would be the act of a coward ; so I 
 jumped up, and off we went. 
 
 Major Vokes was in prime humour ; I cannot say 
 that I shared his hilarity. 
 
 At length we came in sight of the public-house 
 styled the " Brian Borholm " and in front of it I saw 
 a large party of persons advancing to meet our 
 carriage. 
 
 " Fly for your life !" cried I. 
 
 u Don't be making yourself a bosthoon," calmly re- 
 plied the Major. 
 
 The stoical coachman drove steadily on. I could 
 have seized the reins and throttled him with pleasure 
 — but, as a military officer, I felt it might seem a 
 want of courage ; so I silently prepared for my doom. 
 
 In ten minutes more we were abreast of the assas- 
 
THE FARRIER'S SHOP. 129 
 
 sins. But how great was my astonishment ! There 
 stood the stalwart farrier and Carmody : yes, there 
 they stood, with three or four other desperate-looking 
 ruffians, all handcuffed. Around them were some 
 twenty policemen armed to the teeth. 
 
 When Yokes arrived, the prisoners uttered a cry 
 between a groan and a yell of execration. 
 
 " I promised that you should see me," said the police 
 chief, "and here I am. Two of you are old offenders 
 and have hitherto eluded me. Faith ! you were soft 
 to be taken in this trap. Sergeant Macmahon, take 
 them into Limerick. Good-bye, boys ! You've seen 
 as you wished, Tom Vokes." 
 
 "Bedad, we have," replied the farrier: "but it's 
 no use fighting wid fate. Sure we all know you've a 
 charmed life. But if ever I get out, you'll not live 
 long— if I have to buy a silver bullet !" 
 
 "You'd better buy something else," said Yokes: 
 " for it's you that murdered the Widow Casey I" 
 
 "Who told you that f 
 
 "Faith ! we wont talk now," said Yokes. "Drive 
 on and away we went. 
 
 The farrier was tried at the following Assizes, con- 
 victed on clear evidence, admitted his guilt, and was 
 hanged. 
 
 9 
 
130 
 
 THE THUNDERSTORM. 
 
 One of the most sociable, and at the same time one of 
 the most respectable institutions that ever existed, was 
 the Limerick Club some thirty years ago. Here the 
 first men of this and the neighbouring counties were 
 wont to assemble. Here the wittiest and best con- 
 vivial ists of tho province were in the habit of meeting 
 and displaying their powers. Here the billiard room 
 (which I have subsequently often seen graced by the 
 appearance of H. E. H. the Duke of Cambridge, and 
 his popular aide-de-camp, Colonel Macdonald) enlivened 
 the tedious monotony of many a wet day. Here, the 
 cook was celebrated for his artistic powers ; while, to 
 crown all, here that claret which was once reckoned 
 amidst the charms of Ireland, still existed — that 
 claret, which was about as superior to the w r orthy 
 grocers vin ordinaire of the present day as pure 
 ITalernian to the washing of port wine bottles : for 
 until about 1830, splendid claret still existed in Ire- 
 land. It is now all gone ; and more's the pity. 
 To resume, however. 
 
 I was sitting at table, in the snug dining-room ox 
 the Limerick Club, joined in my meal by J. V., a 
 relative of my own, a gentleman more than whom 
 
THE THUNDERSTORM. 
 
 131 
 
 none were respected in this old city, of which he had 
 been twice the mayor, and in which he held still 
 several high situations. We had finished our dinner, 
 and washed it down with a couple of bottles of old 
 sherry. J. V. had ordered a cooper (six bottles) 
 of claret, for the two of ns. The fire was stirred up by 
 the busy waiter, the red curtains were drawn closer, 
 our napkins were thrown across our knees. J. V. 
 seemed inclined for a comfortable sitting (which, by 
 the bye, was no joke, as the worthy ex-mayor always 
 assured his friends that in company with a good fellow 
 he was ready to wear out a lignum vitce chair). All 
 but a single pair of wax candles were removed, and 
 everything bespoke a coming jollification, when Vokes 
 suddenly entered the room. • 
 
 " I have come to say, I can't go over to Ennis to- 
 morrow ; so my dear Harry you must frame your 
 plans accordingly. I must go over to Tipperary — a 
 riot is expected there. I wish you could come with 
 me, Major," added he, turning to J. Y. (who, by 
 the bye was a major in the militia regiment com- 
 manded by his brother), " I wish we had you over there, 
 for I know that you are in the commission of that 
 county, and I have so often experienced the benefit of 
 your services as a magistrate, that I should like to 
 have your aid on this occasion." 
 
 " I should be happy to go with you ; but the truth 
 is I've a few friends coming to dine with me to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Oh, then, if you stay away for that, we shall never 
 get you ; for your hospitality is so notorious that we 
 all know you never sit down alone." 
 
 9—2 
 
132 RECOLLECTIONS OF Atf IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " Well, to tell truth, I do like to see my friends 
 around me. But sit down, man ; don t you hear the 
 rain coming down ? the barometer has betokened a 
 coming storm all day. Here, fill your glass ; there's 
 plenty more claret in the house." 
 
 Vokes sat down, filled his glass, and listened eagerly 
 to the rain, which now beat violently against the 
 windows. 
 
 "So, I hear," continued J. V. , " that you rode out 
 to Adare with a single policeman, yesterday, and seized 
 Mick Rooney. Now, wasn't this foolhardy ? Faith, 
 they'll kill you some day or other, and then both 
 the county and your family will mourn over your 
 temerity." 
 
 "Pooh, pooh!" rejoined the police-magistrate; 
 "they'll not injure me. Depend upon it, a bold front 
 awes these fellows." 
 
 " By George ! I'm not sure of that. No one, I 
 think, doubts my courage ; but I would not run the 
 risk you run daily, to be made lord-lieutenant of 
 Ireland." 
 
 Yokes laughed. But at this moment a loud clap of 
 thunder was heard, and a flash of lightning pierced 
 through the interior of the shutters. Yokes turned 
 deadly pale, and uttered an exclamation — an exclama- 
 tion of terror. 
 
 " Why, then, it's nothing at all ; it's only a thunder 
 clap and a flash of lightning. It must not interrupt 
 our evening." 
 
 Yokes turned deadly pale, and covered his face with 
 his hands. I tried in vain to rally him. He was evi- 
 
THE THUNDERSTORM. 
 
 133 
 
 dently terror-stricken, and at the next roll of heaven's 
 artillery, rose and bolted out of the room. 
 
 We were fairly puzzled to know what had become 
 of him ; but for a few moments we continued to keep 
 up our conversation, expressing our deep wonder at 
 the bold magistrate's conduct. J. Y. thought that he 
 had recklessly rushed out through the storm to rejoin 
 his family, some of the females of whom might feel 
 alarmed. I rather thought he had been taken ill ; 
 but evidently did not wish to be followed. So I 
 waited quietly some ten or fifteen minutes, and then, 
 as he did not reappear, I slipped out and asked the 
 waiter about the Major. 
 
 The man could not resist smiling as he replied — 
 
 " He is below, sir." 
 
 "Where T 
 
 " I'll show you, sir." 
 
 This I thought strange, and, somewhat surprised, I 
 followed the servant down the kitchen steps. To my 
 astonishment he walked towards a back cellar, and 
 throwing open the door, and handing me the candle, 
 for it was pitch dark, he exclaimed, " He's in there, 
 sir." I started at the idea, and dreaded some misfor- 
 tune had happened. I waved the candle aloft, and 
 beheld T. P. Y., cowering in the corner, with his silk 
 handkerchief spread over his head. " Good heavens !" 
 thought I, " he's dead !" But the next moment 
 my fears were relieved ; he raised the kerchief, and 
 asked iu timid tones — 
 
 " Is it over P 
 
 " What?" 
 
134 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 u The thunder and lightning T 
 
 (C Oh, yes ! But what is the matter with you, my 
 dear sir] Are you ill, or hurt ?" 
 
 " Neither, my dear fellow. But I've the greatest 
 horror of the war of the elements." 
 
 11 Surely, you are not alarmed at such trifles t * 
 
 " By the soul of my graudsire, I am. I'd rather 
 meet fifty croppies any day than encounter a thunder- 
 storm. Franklin told me last week that silk was a 
 non-conductor, so I've thrown my handkerchief over 
 my head. Egad ! the flash was so vivid it almost 
 curdled my blood with fear. But now I'm all right 
 again, and if the rain ceases I think I'll ride over to 
 Derk to-night, and sleep there, and have a chat with 
 the hospitable owner of that mansion before I go into 
 Tipperary in the morning." 
 
 " But you forget the state of the county ; recollect 
 the danger you run if you are recognised." 
 
 " Bah ! they'll not dare touch me, and if they did, I 
 know how to defend myself. Besides, to tell you the 
 truth, I feel that this fright has so chilled my blood I 
 require some exercise to restore my circulation. Yes, 
 I'll ride over to Derk at once ;" and, in spite of all my 
 entreaties, my arguments respecting the danger, and a 
 thousand other reasons which I equally urged, away 
 went this dare-devil (for really I can call him by no 
 other name), to gallop across a disaffected country at 
 ten o'clock at night. I returned to my friend, and re- 
 lated to him all the facts of the case. 
 
 He was, like myself, puzzled and surprised. Nor 
 could he then, nor can I to this present hour, account 
 
THE THUNDERSTORM. 
 
 135 
 
 for this strange inconsistency in human nature — the 
 boldest and bravest man, a stranger to every ordinary 
 fear, flying and shouting in terror at the sound of a 
 roll of thunder and a flash of lightning ! 
 
 Yet such was the case. I personally bear testi- 
 mony to the fact — leaving philosophers better versed 
 than myself in such matters, to account for this physi- 
 ological anomaly. 
 
J 36 
 
 THE IDIOT BOY. 
 
 " Petek, my boy," said Vokes one evening, as we were 
 sitting round the fire, at the same time addressing a 
 near relation, — " Peter, my boy, why do you never 
 hunt ? I can mount you right well, if you wish to go 
 out with the hounds to-morrow. " 
 " I never hunt now." 
 
 "Not hunt! Why, you used to be a perfect 
 Kim rod !" 
 
 " It is true ; but a circumstance which occurred to 
 me about two years ago, when I was out hunting in 
 a distant part of this country, has so thoroughly dis- 
 gusted me with the sport, that, truth to tell, I don't 
 think I shall ever go out again.'' 
 
 "It must have been a serious cause. Wan it an 
 accident to yourself ?" 
 
 "Not at all. I'll relate it to you; though really, 
 even now, I feel horrified as I narrate it. As an old 
 English sportsman, I came over here, anxious to try 
 hunting in the sister country. 
 
 " The fact is, the Leicestershire man who has never 
 visited the sister isle has little idea of Irish sport. A 
 hunter worth 3001. at Melton would be dear in Ireland at 
 501. ; that is, as far as his field qualities in that country 
 go. Instead of hedges, ditches, and fences, we have 
 
THE IDIOT BOY. 
 
 137 
 
 earth-banks, small rivers, and stone walls to encounter 
 and overcome ; and as the first of them (which, by the 
 bye, are miscalled ditches) are often some eight or ten 
 feet high, it is absolutely necessary that the nag which 
 bears you should be trained to jump on the top and off 
 again, or slide down on the other side — by no means an 
 uncommon occurrence — as the exigency of the moment 
 may require. Mounted on a thoroughly well-trained 
 horse, and possessing some knowledge of the country, 
 I cannot help awarding the sporting prize to Ireland. 
 There is a joviality and sociality at cover-side unknown 
 on this side of the water. There is a cheering shout 
 and a reckless pursuit, when the game is running, un- 
 equalled in our hunting fields. It is true that every 
 now and then you are joined and accompanied by a 
 ragged, barefooted Paddy, who yells as he runs along 
 beside your horse, keeping full pace with you, and only 
 pausing while he stands still to see you take your 
 * lapeS In no place does Irish hospitality shine more 
 brilliantly than in the hunting field. Should a check 
 occur, should a pause arise during the meridian hours 
 of the day, the sportsmen gather together, and at once 
 ride up uninvited to the best mansion in the neigh- 
 bourhood, where with joy they are received and wel- 
 comed. An impromptu luncheon is instantly served, 
 and a plentiful supply of 'red round,' washed down 
 by every imaginable drinkable, is offered to the 
 hungry hunters. The highly-spiced meat, the no less 
 exciting liquor, comes pleasantly before the sports- 
 man ; and in half an hour he again starts — like Antaeus, 
 refreshed from sleep — stronger and more energetic than 
 ever. 
 
138 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " Some years ago, I remember, that we had chopped 
 one fox in cover — a second we had lost, after a run 
 of twenty minutes, and vainly endeavoured to find a 
 third ; our hounds were scattering about, a blight had 
 come over the scent, we drew in blank our best cover ; 
 all without success. It was now past one o'clock, and 
 there seemed no chance of immediate sport. 80 we 
 at once drew off the hounds, and rode on to Bally - 
 
 murphy, the seat of Mr. T , where, as we expected, 
 
 we found a right good luncheon laid out — to attack 
 which we did not fail. We drew the corks, and the 
 claret quickly broke cover. 
 
 " T was one of those fine old Irish gentlemen 
 
 who appear to have dwindled away ever since the visit 
 of Father Mathew and the Encumbered Estates Bill 
 — two visitations that have destroyed the wit of the 
 lower orders, and much retrenched the substantial 
 hospitality of the upper classes. It is not more unna- 
 tural to put a pig in a warm bath night and morning, 
 than to call upon a real Irishman to drink little and 
 to owe less. 
 
 " T kept open house ; like the ancient tourna- 
 ments, it was 1 free to all comers.' There were always 
 a hogshead of claret and a puncheon of whisky on the 
 
 run ; beef, mutton, and bread (as T expressed it) 
 
 were grown on the estate. There were about a dozen 
 servants, who not only divided, but occasionally alter- 
 nated, the household duties amongst them ; besides 
 these, there was the old nurse, the blind piper, and the 
 idiot boy — three characters ever attached to the old 
 Irish mansions. It is hinted that there were also a 
 
THE IDIOT BOY. 
 
 139 
 
 fortune-teller and a banshee on the establish men t ; but 
 this was only whispered. 
 
 " I had given my horse to the idiot boy, to lead 
 round to the stables ; for the lad, though soft and 
 silly, perfectly understood what he was about. He 
 could run messages, convey letters ; and, by doing odd 
 jobs now and then, assisted to support a poor mother 
 who perfectly adored him. To this boy, then, I gave 
 my nag, and cheerfully sat down to enjoy my luncheon. 
 
 " As is usual on such occasions, much chaffing, much 
 boasting took place ; and, in some way or other, the 
 young lady of the house was induced to enter into a 
 sporting discussion, in which she of course got the 
 worst ; but, determined to be quits, she, on the first 
 opportunity, slily left the room, and carried out her 
 project. The argument had been relative to the great 
 acumen of her sporting adversary, who declared that 
 he was beyond the power of being deceived. 
 
 "MissT proceeded to the entrance of the kitchen, 
 
 and called Micky, the idiot boy, out, who joyfully 
 obeyed her summons. She now hurriedly directed 
 him to take a soldier (a red herring), and having 
 fastened it to a string, to drag it on after him at full 
 trail — over ditch, dyke, and wall — for two miles, in the 
 direction of Itoby McArthur's farm. Arrived, how- 
 ever, at that house, he was carefully to hide away ; 
 for, if found by the infuriated hunter — thus misled by 
 a drag — he would surely receive severe castigation. 
 Micky assured his young mistress that he had done the 
 same once before, and would do it right well, if 
 they only gave him twenty minutes' start. These 
 
140 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRTSH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 matters were arranged. The young lady, whose absence 
 had not been noticed, rejoined her father's guests. 
 Her health is drunk in a bumper. 
 
 " Luncheon concluded, our horses are brought round ; 
 we mount, and, with a warm farewell, again we ride 
 towards the cover. We are lightly talking over our 
 our late hospitable reception, when, suddenly, the 
 whimper of a favourite hound is heard — the sound 
 increases — a general cry, and we dash forward. The 
 scent lies strong, and away we go. Now Tom Murphy' 
 celebrated horse strikes a stone wall ; Tom is thrown ; 
 every one is sorry for him 5 but, dead or alive, we have 
 no time to stop and assist him. Now a high ditch 
 rises before us ; only half the hounds climb over it ; I 
 clear the summit, and dash off on the other side. In 
 doing so, I jump over a man and horse lying sprawl- 
 ing at the foot ; the man is Jem Trollope, who is 
 trying an English hunter in the county of Limerick. 
 But never mind — we dash onward ; w^e arrive at a 
 farm-house ; the hounds jump over the wall with 
 eager yell, and rush into a pigstye, where Reynard has 
 doubtless sought refuge. But, stay — what piercing 
 cry is that 1 Another, and another ! Surely those 
 screams are human ! ' Whip off the hounds ! Body 
 and soul ! whip 'em off! Don't you hear it is a 
 human scream 1 ' cries the master of the hounds. 
 
 " In a moment we are all out of our saddles, when an 
 agonizing shout is heard in the opposite direction, and 
 a woman, in apparent frenzy, dashes through us, and 
 leaps into the stye. 'Allanah! Allanah! It's Micky 
 — my boy Micky !' The hounds draw forth an object. 
 But no ! — it is too horrible to dwell upon — it is too 
 
THE IDIOT BOY. 
 
 141 
 
 horrible to describe. Suffice it to say, the wretched 
 parent's fears were too fearfully verified. The poor 
 idiot boy, having completed his task, had crept into 
 the stye, dragging in with him the red herring, on 
 which he had begun to feast, as the pack, led by the 
 strong scent, dashed in on their prey. The mangled 
 remains, still palpitating, were those of poor Mick} r . 
 In his anger, the Squire killed one of his very best 
 hounds, whose jaws still reeked with human blood. 
 Insensibility sheltered the poor mother for a moment, 
 who never lifted up her head again — was never known 
 to smile. The hounds were sent off to Galway ; and 
 for a long time no attempt was made to hunt the 
 county. 
 
 " The circumstances are so indelibly engraved on my 
 memory, that I verily believe, if I found any one 
 ' running a drag,' I'd then and there sacrifice him to 
 the manes of the poor Idiot Boy." 
 
142 
 
 THE COLLEEN BAWN. 
 
 The powerful novel entitled "The Collegians" — the 
 work of Gerald Griffin — not only made a great impres- 
 sion at the time when it was written, hut has since 
 been revived by its having been dramatized In- 
 more than one author, and in its every shape become 
 a popular play — the most successful edition or adap- 
 tation being that of Dion Boucicault, who, with Mr. 
 Webster, produced it and played in it, at the New 
 Adelphi Theatre, above 300 nights consecutively, and 
 thus made the unhappy story, under the title of the 
 " Colleen Bawn" a household word in the mouth of 
 every Londoner. This unequalled popularity naturally 
 introduced it throughout the provinces, and so general 
 was its production, that I feel certain there are but 
 few — very few — who have not seen or heard of this 
 most charming and successful drama. The plot of the 
 stage version is, however, very, very far from a correct 
 one, as regards fact?. The poor girl whom Boucicault 
 styles the Colleen Bawn was too surely destroyed, and 
 happily the hero of the melodrama, as well as his 
 servant, were brought to condign punishment. Nor 
 can the correct tale be even gathered from the original 
 tale by Griffin. The work in question, written by him, 
 was brought out within ten or fifteen years after the 
 
THE COLLEEN BAWN. 
 
 143 
 
 murder, and consequently the author was compelled 
 ingeniously to alter the true facts, the less to wound 
 the feelings of the culprit's family, who were then alive, 
 bearing a high position in the city and county of 
 Limerick. 
 
 Lest some who still bear the name may yet survive, 
 and feel annoyed at a fresh reiteration of facts — naturally 
 distressing to their feelings — I will pass over the early 
 facts of the case, and maintain a strict silence touching 
 those motives which led to the act of horror. A true 
 revelation of them might involve the names of two 
 noble families, who, though of course in no way impli- 
 cated in the crime, or cognizant of the unhappy circum- 
 stances which led to the immolation of a good and 
 most innocent girl, might yet feel wounded in seeing 
 their names once more appear connected with the fear- 
 ful story. As, however, I look upon the capture and 
 punishment of the criminals as one of Vokes's most 
 talented acts, I quote the story — omitting the names 
 (as I said before) of those who might feel annoyed at 
 being thus once more dragged forward, and only com- 
 mence the sketch where the general editions of this 
 tale end, namely, some six weeks after the murder had 
 been committed. 
 
 We will therefore open the present narrative at this 
 period, laying the scene in the beautiful and picturesque 
 village of Glynn, where the unhappy girl had resided 
 
 ever since her elopement with Mr. S , who had 
 
 now, however, almost quite forsaken that place — being 
 deeply engaged (as it was said) in endeavouring to 
 obtain the hand of one of the noblest and most virtuous 
 maidens that graced the British peerage. Eily O'Con- 
 BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. 
 
] 44 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 nor had quietly quitted S— , who however still re- 
 tained, I believe, his cottage at Glynn, and left his confi- 
 dential servant, a certain Sullivan, in charge of it, who, 
 however, only remained there a few hours and abruptly 
 left. The proprietor of the finest estate in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and the master of all the soil around, was the 
 then Mr. Fitzgerald, who boasted the honour of bearing 
 the style of " Knight of Glynn," — one of the two oldest 
 titles in Ireland. The knight was, of course, a magis- 
 trate for the county, much respected and liked. But to 
 return to my sketch. 
 
 The servant man, in that sort of confidence which is 
 ever affected to spread a tale, informed the gossips 
 
 that Eily had never really been the wife of Mr. S , 
 
 but that lie had been deeply attached to her, and lest 
 he might legally marry her, his family had insisted on 
 his sending her off to America ; and that she had gone 
 there some ten days before with one hundred pounds 
 in her pocket. The man graphically described the 
 parting, and as the possibility of such an emigration 
 had before been hinted at, the statement was readily 
 received and believed. 
 
 Some six weeks later the inhabitants of a few cottages 
 near Glynn were horrified by seeing a female body 
 washed on shore by the rough waves of the Shannon — 
 which is here above a mile in width. To recognise it 
 was impossible, and its identity appeared lost, since it 
 was a mere torso, or trunk : the head had fallen off 
 and all the limbs were gone — the outer dress had dis- 
 appeared, and the present remnant of humanity was 
 only preserved and held together by a pair of strong 
 though old brown jean stays. The trunk was at once 
 
THE COLLEEN BAWN. 
 
 US 
 
 conveyed to the dead-house of the village, in order that 
 every one might see it — but not with the slightest hope 
 of its being recognised. Of course all the females and 
 the male idlers in Glynn went to see it. All looked 
 at it, shook their heads, and turned away from it in 
 horror. Though, truth to tell, no one suspected foul 
 play, the general belief was that some unfortunate 
 female had fallen overboard, and that the length of 
 time she had lain in the water had thus destroyed her 
 form. 
 
 Amongst others who visited the dead-house was an 
 old crone who only occasionally visited Glynn. The 
 instant she beheld the remains she exclaimed " God 
 be good to us ! By the Virgin, that is the body of 
 
 Eily !" The persons around her jeered at her, 
 
 and reminded her tauntingly that the young girl she 
 mentioned had gone to America. But no power could 
 shake the opinion she had formed, and she went 
 straight before the nearest magistrate (the late knight 
 of Glynn), one of the most upright men that ever 
 lived, and reiterated her tale. 
 
 " Upon what grounds do you base your assertion ?" 
 
 " Sure it's no assertion, but positive truth." 
 
 " Why do you say so ? The trunk of one individual 
 closely resembles that of another; then why say that 
 this is the body of Eily T 
 
 "I'll tell yer honour. About two months ago I 
 got a piece of printed chintz, and I'm ready to swear 
 that the likes of it did not exist in Ireland. It was 
 not only peculiar in its pattern but in its colours." 
 
 " But what has all this to do with the matter J" 
 
 " Faix, then, I'm coming to that. May the saints 
 10 
 
146 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 never look down on me, but the stays in the dead- 
 house are patched with that same chintz which I sold 
 to poor Eily. Your honor, I'll take my oath to its 
 being the truth." 
 
 Now this was a trivial circumstance ; but the 
 knight thought it worth while instantly to ride into 
 Limerick, and into that city he caused the old woman 
 to be marched between two policemen, then and there 
 to be examined by the chief magistrate of police, 
 Thomas Phillips Yokes, who cross-examined the wo- 
 man in every way ; but she was firm to her evidence. 
 Lest, however, she might be tampered with, the 
 worthy magistrate caused her to be detained and 
 carefully watched. 
 
 Yokes, as I said before, once on a track, sifted 
 everything. The vessel in which poor Eily had been 
 said to have sailed, had now returned. No such indi- 
 vidual had gone out in her. 
 
 About seven weeks before, and about the last time she 
 had been noticed, she had been seen going out in a row- 
 boat with Mr. S and his servant Sullivan ; further 
 
 inquiries elicited the fact that cries for help had been 
 heard in the direction of a neighbouring island ; while 
 one party distinctly swore that he saw the boat return 
 with the two men but no woman, and had even asked 
 about the circumstance from Sullivan, who told him 
 in reply, that he and his master had taken the girl on 
 board one of Spaight's ships, and left her. Nothing 
 could be more plausible, more probable, and until the 
 discovery had been made that she had never been on 
 board that vessel, the fact did not appear suspicious. 
 
 Under these circumstances, warrants against Mr. 
 
THE COLLEEN BAWN. 
 
 147 
 
 S and his servant Sullivan were issued. But the 
 
 first was not to be found, and the second had gone to 
 America. Of this there was no doubt. 
 
 The chief magistrate of police and the knight tried 
 every means to apprehend the accused gentleman, but 
 without effect. It is true he was known to be lurking 
 in the county; but secreted and protected by his 
 powerful relations, the task of seizing him seemed to 
 be impossible. Several well-planned attempts at cap- 
 ture signally failed, and months rolled on before any- 
 thing could be done. 
 
 It was a dark evening when Fitzgerald, the knight, 
 walked into the residence of Major Yokes, and in pri- 
 vate made him a communication on the subject ; the 
 latter at once called out a troop of dragoons, and took 
 with him a dozen mounted policemen. At their head 
 rode the two magistrates. 
 
 They proceeded at a brisk trot towards the residence 
 
 of Mr. M of S — — , one of the most independent 
 
 and influential men in the county of Limerick. As 
 Major Yokes rode through the park he spread the 
 dragoons round the house, and communicated his di- 
 rections to the officers. 
 
 He then gave a loud knock, the door was opened, 
 and the functionaries instantly ran into the dining- 
 room. There some ten or twelve gentlemen were as- 
 sembled, and on the left of the host sat Mr. S « 
 
 In a moment they rose and would have fallen on their 
 
 intruders. S already prepared for flight, when, 
 
 drawing out a double-barrelled pistol, the chief magis- 
 trate pointed it at the head of the accused. Fitzgerald 
 did the same. " There is no use in violence, gentle- 
 
 10—2 
 
148 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. ^ 
 
 men," said the former, " opposition is out of the ques- 
 tion. I arrest Mr. S on a charge of murder, and 
 
 whoever resists the capture does so at his peril. It is 
 no use looking towards the door or the window ; the 
 hall is filled with police, the whole house is surrounded 
 by dragoons. I arrest the prisoner, and shall instantly 
 take him off to Limerick." 
 
 " And do you think this conduct gentlemanlike I 
 — to enter a person's house and drag off his guest V? 
 
 " When that house becomes the refuge of a mur- 
 derer, courtesies cease ; there is no use in bandying 
 words. Were he in the Pope's dormitory or the 
 sanctuary of Westminster, I would equally drag him 
 forth. Come, sir. Sergeant Reedy put on the hand- 
 cuffs. In these cases there is no respect to persons. 
 Captain, have the goodness to let your troop mount at 
 once ; we must not lose a moment in reaching Limerick. 
 Be good enough to order your men to load their 
 pistols and keep close to the policemen. Gentlemen," 
 said he, turning to the murmuring party around him, 
 " you see there is no hope of a rescue. Let the law, 
 I beseech you, for once be executed without the shed- 
 ding of blood." 
 
 By this time all was ready, and in two hours more Mr. 
 
 S was a prisoner in the old gaol. Many of his 
 
 friends had followed him at a distance ; but the force 
 which Yokes's foresight had caused him to take with 
 him was too imposing to be lightly attacked. 
 
 A. few days later Mr. S was brought to trial ; 
 
 an overwhelming mass of evidence brought forward 
 clearly proved him to have been the actual perpetra- 
 tor, or immediate participator, in this brutal murder. 
 
THE COLLEEN BAWN. 149 
 
 As we shall have again to recur to these details, it 
 is unnecessary to give them here ; suffice it to say that 
 the jury unhesitatingly pronounced him guilty. 
 
 At the same moment a post-chaise and four galloped 
 from behind the court-house, in which was seated a 
 county magistrate. The carriage took the road to 
 Dublin ; simultaneously another similar equipage 
 started from Moriarty's Hotel, also bound for the 
 capital. They reached it in the morning. The one 
 traveller sought out the Lord-Lieutenant, the other 
 the Lord Chancellor. Each of these functionaries 
 was earnestly appealed to — u the honour of a noble 
 family," " the improbability of the case," " only sup- 
 ported by circumstantial evidence," and a thousand 
 other reasons were urged for extending mercy to the 
 prisoner. But the prayer of each was firmly refused, 
 and the disappointed petitioners returned to their 
 hotel, where they wrote for further influence. Twenty- 
 four hours later the carriage of a most popular noble- 
 man — bearing an Earl's coronet — sought the high 
 authorities ; but no audience could be granted. " The 
 law must take its course." 
 
 In the meantime the prisoner went on laughing and 
 joking, apparently amused at the preposterous idea 
 of his having committed such a crime. He seemed 
 wholly unconscious of his dreadful situation, and in 
 this line of conduct he was, in all probability, sup- 
 ported by his proud relations, as well as by a thorough 
 belief that he would receive a reprieve. 
 
 On the morning of the day appointed for his execu- 
 tion, the sub-Sheriff and the Chaplain visited him, and 
 showed him there was " no hope." He must die ! 
 
150 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN HUSH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 S appeared somewhat terror-stricken, and begged 
 
 to be left for a few moments to pray alone. This was 
 accorded him. But on the return of the functionaries 
 they found his eyes starting out of his head, and his 
 cheeks flushed. He had swallowed laudanum \ but in 
 such a large quantity as to stupify, not kill him. The 
 usual modes were exercised to empty his stomach, and 
 in a short time he was out of danger. Who gave him 
 this poison he never divulged. 
 
 In consideration of his connexions, he was allowed 
 to proceed to the gallows (about a mile and a-half off) 
 in a post-chaise drawn by two black horses, the 
 property of Mr. Denmeade, an undertaker. These 
 horses were usually accustomed to draw a hearse ; they 
 were extremely quiet and gentle creatures. 
 
 The crowd was immense, and as S stepped into 
 
 the chaise a shout of execration rent the air ; but 
 Major Vokes had so guarded the vehicle with police 
 and troops, that there was no fear of a Lynch law 
 attack on the part of the people, or a rescue on the 
 part of his friends. 
 
 The horses walked on steadily till they came to the 
 foot of Baals Bridge, which spans a fast- running 
 branch of the Shannon. Here they came to a dead 
 halt, and neither whip, spur, nor stick could induce 
 them to move farther. That u no horse will draw a 
 murderer across a running stream" is a strong belief 
 among the Irish peasantry, so here they believed that 
 they had a proof vouchsafed by Providence, winch 
 
 none could doubt, of Mr. S \s guilt j so now they 
 
 would have torn him to pieces if they could have got 
 at him. In the meanwhile every means (not omitting 
 
THE COLLEEN BAWN. 
 
 151 
 
 the burning brand, often used to start horses in Ire- 
 land) were employed. One horse, however, kicked 
 himself out of his traces, while the other deliberately 
 lay down and refused to move. 
 
 Mr. S was requested to descend from the 
 
 carriage, and with a pale face and faltering step he 
 did so. But on the whole it must be admitted he 
 walked with tolerable calmness to the place of exe- 
 cution. 
 
 Here no news of a reprieve met him, and as he 
 ascended the fatal ladder he seemed to have resigned 
 himself to his fate. He looked earnestly into the 
 crowd and there saw many of his family. Their pre- 
 sence appeared to strengthen his resolution. 
 
 The chaplain then came up, and besought him on the 
 
 eve of eternity to confess the truth. S , however, 
 
 again declared his innocence. All but the sub-sheriff 
 (John Cuthbert) and the executioner had withdrawn, 
 and the cap was drawn over his face ; the former 
 stepped forward, and, seizing his arm, said, "In 
 another minute you will be before the Judge who reads 
 all hearts. Are you guilty ?" " No !" replied the 
 other, firmly, " I die innocent jV and with this false- 
 hood on his lips he was launched into eternity. The 
 world will probably never again see such an example 
 of family pride I 
 
 For several months after the execution the most 
 fearful denunciations were fulminated against those 
 who had thus (a3 they said) sacrificed an innocent man. 
 Major Yokes and the Knight of Glynn were tabooed 
 by half the respectable society in Limerick. But the 
 former was not a man to let anything drop, and while 
 
152 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 all supposed he had forgotten the case, he had sent out 
 a confidential agent to New York, and found that 
 Sullivan (the servant) had returned from thence to 
 England. This was enough for him. He despatched 
 four of his sharpest policemen to London, and in a few 
 weeks Sullivan was safely lodged in Limerick gaol. 
 He was tried on the same evidence as his master, was 
 found guilty, and condemned to die. 
 
 Now Sullivan was a Roman Catholic, and very pro- 
 perly believed that his best chance of heavenly for- 
 giveness wa3 to make an ample earthly confession ; 
 besides which he had no pride of family ; so he sent for 
 his priest and the sub-sheriff, and in their presence 
 made the following statement, which may be wrong in 
 some minor particulars, as I have not heard of, or 
 read of, this terrible murder for the last twenty years. 
 But I give the details as well as I recollect : — 
 
 " My master and I," began the servant, " had agreed 
 for several days to put Eily out of the way, and we 
 only waited an opportunity. I was then and there to 
 get 100?. and a free passage to America. Such wa3 
 our bargain. Well, yer revirence, it was a lovely 
 evening when my master proposed to take poor Eily 
 (for he never called her his wife) out on the river for 
 a row. Not a ripple was on the surface, so we three 
 started together. I had a gun, as I said, to kill fowl, 
 at the bottom of the boat. My master brought his 
 flute, which he played merrily as we skimmed along. 
 There is a little island about four miles beyond Glynn, 
 and here the master landed, desiring me to take Eily 
 a further row. To this we assented, and away we 
 went. When we were about 200 yards from the 
 
THE COLLEEN BAWN. 
 
 153 
 
 island, I took up the gun and began talking about 
 death. Oh, yer riverence, if ye'd heard her speak of it — 
 had ye heard her call down blessings on the master ! I 
 raised the gun. ' What's that you're at ; sure you'd 
 not hurt poor Eily, who prays for you every night f 
 and she gave me the look of an angel. The fallen one 
 himself could not have harmed her. So I threw down 
 the gun and rowed back to the master, and told him T 
 couldn't, I wouldn't do it. 
 
 ft Upon this the master cursed me, and called me a 
 coward, and threatened me if I didn't do it ; and said 
 he'd do it himself, only he could not go to Ameriky as 
 I could, and he offered me more money down, and 
 swore he'd purtect me, and all that. Well, at last I 
 jumped into the boat again, and as soon as I got a few 
 yards out I up with the gun, and, without looking at 
 her, gave her a blow on the head with the gun-stock 
 which stunned her ; she screamed, and the master, who 
 was watching us on shore, began playing the flute to 
 drown her cries. I struck her two or three times, till 
 I thought she was dead, and then I lifted her and 
 threw her into the water. I then took up the oars 
 again, and was about to row for the shore, when she 
 arose to the surface and grasped the edge of the boat. 
 By this time I felt more like a tiger than a man, and 
 I smashed her hands all to pieces with the oar. She 
 lefc go her hold, and slowly sank. But as she died she 
 gave me one look — oh ! such a look — it haunts me at 
 night — it pursues me in my pleasures. Even when I 
 drink to drown remembrance, I see that last glance of 
 poor Eily's. The master sent me away soon after. 
 But I could not travel away from her last look — I 
 
154 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 even fancy I see it now. I do believe it smiles, since 
 I've told the truth — the whole truth \ n and here the 
 wretch made a most solemn asseveration of the truth 
 of his statement. He was examined and re-examined. 
 He never wavered in a single particular. On the way 
 to the gallows, he turned to the officer who guarded 
 him, and declared that since he had confessed Eily 
 had appeared to him no more, and on this fact he built 
 his hope of being forgiven. 
 
 On the scaffold he acknowledged his guilt, and con- 
 firmed all he had previously stated. At the last 
 moment the priest said to him — " You are about to 
 
 enter into eternity. Are you guilty ] Did Mr. S 
 
 plan and assist you in the crime 1" 
 
 "As I hope to be saved, he did F and the next 
 moment the culprit had ceased to lire. 
 
 I have here endeavoured to sketch as correctly as I 
 could the facts of a case which will ever be remembered 
 by the inhabitants of Munster. Many versions have 
 been put forth, but I feel confident that mine is an 
 exact and unbiassed statement. 
 
 All the parties interested and engaged in this fearful 
 affair have, I believe, passed away. " May they rest in 
 peace T 
 
155 
 
 RECEIVING- RENTS. 
 
 Vokes and myself were dining at the hotel in Tippe- 
 
 rary, when we were joined by Mr. H , one of the 
 
 most intelligent members of the legal profession in 
 Ireland, who, besides his other duties, performed those 
 of several first-rate agencies in Kildare, Queen's 
 County, and Tipperary. The addition of this pleasant 
 companion to our company gave great satisfaction to 
 my relative ; and, indeed, I shared the feeling, when, 
 warmed by a glass or two of punch, our friend poured 
 forth a string of most amusing anecdotes. After an 
 hour thus agreeably employed, the magistrate turned 
 round, and abruptly asked him — 
 
 u And what brings you here ?" 
 
 " I am come to collect the rents on the Kilbarry 
 estate, for which I am the agent." 
 
 " Are you going to try the experiment when the 
 country is in such a disturbed state ? Sure, your life 
 is not worth a day's purchase if you do." 
 
 " Oh, this is the third time I've done so, and here 
 I am, safe and sound. On the first occasion, it is true; 
 I ran a considerable risk ; but I've now no fear." 
 
 " How is that f 
 
 " Oh, it's a long story, though a curious one, 
 
156 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN* IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 strangely illustrative of the Tipperary peasantry ; 
 but— " 
 
 " Oh, let's have it T 
 
 "Pray do," I chimed in. 
 
 "Well, I'll tell it you, for I think I can recollect all 
 the circumstances. 
 
 " I was barely three-and-twenty years of age, and 
 wholly unacquainted with this county, when I was 
 nominated agent to the Kilbarry estate, a small but 
 snug property, worth about 1000/. or 1200£ a year. 
 When the first rent became due, I came down to 
 Clonmel, accompanied by an assistant, and at once 
 demanded the sums in arrear. I was coolly but 
 determinedly met by a general refusal from every one 
 of the tenants. It appears the lands had been lately 
 sold ; the farmers assured me that they looked upon 
 the sale as illegal, and one and all declared their con- 
 sequent determination not to pay one farthing. They 
 also added this comforting assurance, namely, that 
 though they did not wish to be uncivil, the sooner 
 I returned to Dublin the sooner I should be in safety. 
 My assistant, on this hint, at once tied, and on my 
 appealing to a friend in the locality, he strongly 
 advised me to do the same. Nothing could be done 
 on the spot, that was clear. The man I had taken 
 with me would alarm others ; indeed, I could better 
 serve my cause in Dublin than in Tipperary ; by these 
 and other arguments, I was persuaded to return to the 
 Irish metropolis. Thence, a short correspondence 
 ensued with, the defaulters, but not one wavered. 
 They again positively refused to pay, and dared me to 
 enforce my claim. In the meantime, I found myself 
 
RECEIVING RENTS. 
 
 157 
 
 (what is called) fixed for the whole amount, and as I 
 could ill afford the loss, I determined, whether it 
 cost me my life or not, to make one more personal 
 effort. Having thus made up my mind, I sought 
 out Charles Macklin, a barrister, and a schoolfellow of 
 mine. I knew he would do anything to serve me. 
 After stating my case to him he for a few moments 
 remained in silent doubt, and seemed mentally to 
 canvass some idea. At length he turned round and 
 abruptly explained, * Yes, you shall have it ; it is the 
 only way.' 
 
 " I looked puzzled. 
 
 " ' Yes, I'll give you a letter to the only man in the 
 whole county who can assist you. But if I give you 
 this introduction, you had better be entirely guided by 
 his advice.' 
 
 " ' I will,' said I; 'but is your friend a magis- 
 trate V 
 
 " ' By no means,' said Macklin, smiling. 1 1 am 
 about to present you to Bill Quiglan.' 
 
 " f What ! ' cried I, starting up with astonishment, 
 ( Bill Quiglan, the supposed murderer, the most 
 desperate man in the county 1 ' 
 
 " ' The same,' replied he, coolly sitting down and 
 writing a short note, which he carefully sealed. * The 
 same ; if he cannot assist you, none can. Keep, how- 
 ever, your own counsel, and see him, if possible, before 
 it is known that you are in the county. Good luck to 
 you — good bye.' He handed me the letter, and I took 
 my leave. 
 
 " I went down by the then night mail, and, keeping 
 close, ,made myself acquainted with the locality where 
 
158 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 my redoubted friend resided. I ordered a covered car 
 
 and as the evening shades closed in, I started. 
 
 " In the middle of a wild bog stood the cottage I 
 sought — a more exposed, a more desolate spot I never 
 beheld. But I boldly knocked at the door, and, lifting 
 the latch, I entered. The whole dwelling consisted 
 of one room. Over the fireplace a well-kept long duck- 
 gun was suspended, and a brace of pistols served as a 
 further ornament between the bed and the chimney 
 corner ; a pitchfork was thrown carelessly against the 
 wall, and everything denoted warlike defence in case 
 of attack. At the same time, although the habitation 
 consisted of a single chamber, there was an air of neat- 
 ness and comfort about it, far beyond the average of 
 luxury displayed by Irish cabins in general. 
 
 " Bill, who was a tall powerful man, decently dressed, 
 and possessed of a line countenance, rose on my entrance* 
 put down his dudeen, and perceiving me to be a gen- 
 tleman, bowed to me respectfully. He showed little or 
 no symptoms of surprise — though evidently ill pleased 
 with the visit. 
 
 " 1 Good evening Mr. Quiglan.' 
 
 " 1 Sure I'm generally called Bill Quiglan — at your 
 service. Can I be of any use to you, sir 1 ' 
 
 " 1 This will explain,' said I, handing him my letter 
 of introduction. 1 It is from Mr. Charles Macklin, now 
 in Dublin.' 
 
 " ' Then, sir,' said he, hastily banishing the frown 
 from his brow, 1 then sir, you are welcome a thousand 
 times. I trust his honor is well 1 ' 
 
 " ■ Quite well — quite well. But you had better read 
 his communication.' 
 
RECEIVING RENTS. 
 
 159 
 
 "Til do that same.' He opened the letter and 
 perused it with great attention, then suddenly turning 
 round, he exclaimed : " And now, sir, what can I do 
 for you ? 1 
 
 " ' 1 am come for the purpose of enforcing the pay- 
 ment of the rents on the Kilbarry estate. Mr. Macklin 
 thought you could assist me ?' 
 
 " 1 And so I can.' 
 
 " ' Well, what had I best do ?' 
 
 " 'Arrest Tim Macarthy, the chief tenant ! ' 
 
 " 'Macarthy ? He has several labourers ; he is well 
 lodged, and I fear I can find no bailiff to undertake the 
 job. Why he is the most lawless fellow of the lot.' 
 
 " ' That's true for you : not a soul would dare to try 
 it. That's the man — he should be seized.' 
 
 " \ Then what am I to do !' 
 
 " ' Charles Macklin is your friend : it is sufficient — 
 I'll seize him myself.' 
 
 " 1 What assistance will you require V 
 
 " 1 None : they'd be bold men, and bad ones too, who'd 
 offer resistance to Bill Quiglan, of Ballybeg. Sure 
 you have heard of me before — have you not — or else 
 why do you thus come to meV 
 
 " 1 Well, Bill, it is true I have heard,' and here I 
 began to speak in a somewhat nervous manner, 1 1 
 have heard that some years ago you had the misfortune 
 to — that is — ' 
 
 " * Out with it — don't stammer or mince the matter. 
 You've heard I murdered Tim Dooler — sure it's no 
 secret — all the county rang with it — and I must admit 
 that the jury brought in a fair verdict when they pro- 
 nounced me guilty. It's well for them I considered it 
 
1G0 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE . 
 
 so, or some of them would not be riding about their 
 farms at this moment. I had no right, yen see, to 
 punish them for a just verdict.' 
 
 * 1 But if you were convicted how did you get off 1 1 
 
 " c Ah, then, you might have guessed it from the way 
 in which I treat Counsellor Macklin's note. Didn't 
 he find a flaw in the indictment, or some such thing, 
 and by his exertions didn't he get me off clear and 
 clean — so there was an end of that affair.' 
 
 " My looks plainly expressed my horror and astonish- 
 ment. This he at once perceived. 
 
 " 1 You now know why I'd lay down my life for 
 Charley Macklin — may Providence bless him ! Faith, 
 I'll be true to him as steel. And as you are his friend, 
 I'll go through fire and water to serve him ; so you 
 needn't fear me. Though, faith, I believe you are 
 about the only man in the county that does not. Sure, 
 I'll seize him, and lodge him in Cashel gaol.' 
 
 " 1 I'm much obliged to you ; but even that won't do. 
 He must appear in Dublin, and I fear it will be im- 
 possible to convey him there.' 
 
 " 1 That's true for you ; they'd never allow it. Be- 
 dad ! the boys are true to the cause. It's not a stranger 
 they'd allow to carry off one of themselves. Your only 
 way will be to apply for a large detachment of soldiers 
 and police, and march him off. Faith, they'll have a 
 rough walk of it ; and it's not so sure they'll get him 
 to Dublin after all.' 
 
 "'Bight, Quiglan ; but cannot you suggest any 
 other mode I 1 
 
 " 1 Hould your tongue for a minute, and let me 
 tliiuk.' 
 
RECEIVING RENTS. 
 
 161 
 
 <; He pondered while taking three or four whiffs 
 of his pipe, then suddenly turning round, he asked 
 me — 
 
 " ' Do you know the contents of the note you brought 
 me!' 
 
 "'Not V 
 
 " ' Then I'll tell it to you. He merely says ' H > the 
 
 bearer of this letter, is my best friend ; treat him as 
 you would treat myself, and serve him if you can.' 
 
 " c Upon my honour, I'm much obliged to him.' 
 
 "'And you know,' continued ' Big Bill,' 'that 
 the counsellor saved my life, and therefore you must 
 be aware I'd risk that life ten thousand times over 
 to please him. He tells me to serve you as if you 
 were himsel£ Faith, then, 111 not shrink from it, 
 though the task is difficult. I'll seize him, and convey 
 him to Dublin to-morrow night.' 
 
 " 'A thousand thanks.' 
 
 " f That will do. You will, of course, pay all expenses, 
 and give me 101. for my trouble V 
 "'Willingly.' 
 
 " ' Well, then, give me the writ/ 
 u I produced several. 
 
 "'This one will do,' said Bill, selecting the writ 
 against Macarthy ; ' and now be oil* and if any one 
 stops you, tell him you are a friend of Bill Quiglan. 
 Don't be late in Cashel ; I'll be there before five. 
 Good night ;' and he closed his door as I drove off to 
 Tipperary, wondering whether my new friend could 
 really carry out his promises. 
 
 " I arrived on the next evening, about live o'clock, at 
 the inn in Cashel, and learnt that a person had called 
 11 
 
162 RECOLLECTIONS OF A> r IRISH TOLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 and ordered a car for himself and a friend to proceed 
 
 to Clonmel at seven o'clock. 
 
 " 1 Do you know who the person was V 
 "After a moment's hesitation, he replied, 'It was 
 Bill Quiglan, sir ; he has brought a prisoner, whom he 
 wishes to convey to Clonmel, where the assizes are 
 going forward.' 
 
 "I felt surprised, and almost feared treachery on 
 hearing that he had thus publicly proclaimed our in- 
 tended departure ; but as it was now too late to retrace 
 my steps, I made the best of it, and Bat down to a 
 hurried dinner. This was scarcely over when my bold 
 companion was announced. He was now dressed most 
 respectably, and assumed an air of gentility and confi- 
 dence whioh I had not perceived on the previous 
 evening. 
 
 " [ Well, sir, when you are done, we will, if you please, 
 at once start. I wish to get into Clonmel as early as 
 possible,' and he gave me a knowing wink unper- 
 ceived by the waiter. 
 
 " I was going to say, 1 Quiglan 
 
 " 1 Nabocklish. Run, Pat, and hurry the car. Sure 
 we're to go round by the gaol to take Macarthy up.' 
 
 a 1 Well,' thought 1, 1 this man is the most imprudent 
 fellow I ever met with,' and I loudly expressed the 
 idea as the waiter closed the door. 
 
 " 1 Whist 1 these walls have ears.' 
 
 ■ 1 Yes ; but you don't understand. It's not £ 
 
 " 1 Hisht ! faith, do you take me for an omadawn. 
 All's right ; you'll see presently ;' and without allow- 
 ing me again to speak, he descended with me, and 
 jumped on the car. Within a quarter of an hour we 
 
RECEIVING RENTS. 
 
 163 
 
 were clear of the town, with Macarthy seated beside 
 me well secured. 
 
 " In silent astonishment we drove along the road, 
 with which I was thoroughly acquainted, and could 
 not help fancying that I was betrayed ; indeed, I had 
 begun mentally to reproach my folly in having thus 
 trusted myself in the power of such a villain, when 
 suddenly Bill turned round and peremptorily ordered 
 the car-driver to turn up a bye road. 
 
 " 1 Sure that's not the way to Clonmel t 
 
 " e I know that J but turn up 
 
 " ( Faith, thin, I'll do no such thing. I was hired to 
 go to Clonmel, and to Clonmel I'll go.' 
 
 " ' You know me, Thady Ryan ; you well know that 
 I value a man's life just as much as I do a dog's. Do 
 you see this — and here he produced a large horse-pistol, 
 which he presented at the man's head. By the heavens 
 above me .' 
 
 " ' Ah, then, Bill, sure you wouldn't murder me 1 
 You know I'm sworn to go to Clonmel.' 
 
 " ' Do so, then. Jump down ; I'll drive. You may 
 now walk on and tell the boys ; but, as I said before, 
 may the curse of Cromwell light on me but I'll blow 
 your brains out if you mount a horse, or hasten beyond 
 a walk, to inform your friends that we've changed our 
 destination.' 
 
 "The man sprang down, and scanned Bill from head 
 to foot with a savage glance, evidently weighing the 
 chances of an encounter. But Quiglan's looks were now 
 most strangely altered ; he no longer wore a bland smile. 
 His brow was contracted, his teeth fixed firmly, and as 
 he followed the movements of the other ruffian, con- 
 
 11—2 
 
lGi RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IR1SII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 tinuing to keep the muzzle of the pistol pointed at him, 
 I never beheld so fierce an object in the course of my 
 life. The hesitation lasted less than a minute ; in that 
 period the driver had slunk off, conscious of his danger. 
 Bill had seized the reins, and was making the horse 
 gallop in an opposite direction to that in which we 
 had originally started. 
 
 " We hastened on, in this way, for several miles ; 
 no person was visible. The cross road we were follow- 
 ing was evidently unfrequented. At length I per- 
 ceived a horseman in the distance, and mentioned the 
 circumstance to Bill, who instantlj 7 handing me his 
 pistol, desired me to point it at the head of the 
 prisoner, and instantly to blow out his brains if he 
 endeavoured to escape. I complied with the first part 
 of his request ; I much doubt, even in case of need, 
 whether I should have followed the second portion of 
 his directions. 
 
 "Presently the rider came up with us, his horse 
 evidently much distressed by the pace he had been 
 compelled to keep up. The man held a bundle in his 
 hands, and as he approached us, roared out to us to 
 stop. 
 
 " 6 Not a bit of it,' " growled Bill. 
 
 " Sure haven't I brought some clothes for Mr. 
 Macarthy, and I only want you to stop while I deliver 
 them.' 
 
 " 'Not a taste of it, Tim Grady ; and what's more, 
 if you look at my friend on the car, you'll see he has 
 the very pistol in his hand which sent your friend 
 and namesake Tim Doolan into another world, and 
 I've its own foster brother inside my waistcoat ; and 
 
RECEIVING RENTS. 
 
 165 
 
 what's more, if you attempt to spake to the prisoner, 
 I'll make short work of it. You know Bill Quiglan 
 well, and you know he never lies ; so be off wid you, 
 or, by my soul, I may be tempted to try the little 
 argument I have ready cocked in my breast. Be off 
 wid ye ; do ye hear V 
 
 " The man looked at him, then muttering something 
 in Irish, turned back. 
 
 "'By dad, Tim, it's little I care for your threats. 
 I'll come back, and you won't even dare to repeat the 
 words you now utter, much more attack me. And 
 now, sir, we must drive for our lives/ 
 
 " ? Couldn't you stop and ease my wrists a little ; 
 they hurt me very much,' chimed in the prisoner. 
 
 " 1 Then by the vestments I wont, so you need try 
 no tricks on me. Sure, don't you well know there are 
 ten or twelve of the boys coming after us, and Tim 
 only outstripped them by virtue of his horse's speed. 
 Faith, I fancy I can almost hear them now.' We 
 went on at full speed, and a mile further on, turned 
 into an open and broad road. 
 
 u ' We're better off now,' said Bill ; 1 but we're not 
 safe yet.' Presently the noise of wheels was heard, 
 and our bold driver shouted, ' It's all right now,' and 
 stopped the car, and having taken back the pistol from 
 me, began to help the prisoner down. At this moment 
 the Kilkenny mail, en route for Dublin, came up, to 
 intercept which, had evidently been Bill's object. 
 
 " \ Stop ! stop !' cried he, and having spoken to the 
 guard, Macarthy and myself were soon comfortably 
 placed inside, while Bill followed in the car about two 
 miles further on the road, when, the coach delaying for a 
 
166 RECOLLECTIONS OF AX IBISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 few minutes at a rustic tavern, he commended hi* 
 vehicle to the care of the innkeeper, promising to 
 return for it in a few days, and jumped into the mail 
 with us, which fortunately had only our three selves 
 inside it. 
 
 " Bill was rather an amusing companion, and chatted 
 away in high spirits, and even Macarthy, seeing there 
 was no use in being sulky, joined in our conversation, 
 and more than once shared a glas3, in perfect good 
 humour with his captor. This in England would 
 appear strange, but such conduct in Ireland is by no 
 means uncommon. 
 
 " Early in the morning we arrived in Dublin, and my 
 friend was duly lodged in prison. After a few days, 
 seeing there was no hope, he offered the amount of his 
 overdue rent But by Bills advice, I refused it, and 
 insisted on his appearing in Court unless all the others 
 paid likewise. After a short hesitation he assented to 
 this, and handed me the full amount of every claim, and 
 succeeded in getting his discharge. I joyfully handed 
 Bill double the sum I had promised him, and from 
 that moment to this, though I have frequently visited 
 the estate, and collected the rents of Kilbarry, I have 
 never been annoyed by incivility or default. While 
 as to Bill, I rather thin his reckless boldness on 
 this occasion has made him more popular in the county 
 than ever. Of course I've changed some of the names ; 
 but to the truth of the circumstances I have narrated, 
 I pledge myself.' 
 
 " * By George, you are a plucky fellow/ exclaimed 
 Vokes, delighted with the anecdote. i I only wish 
 you were a magistrate in our county.' 
 
RECEIVING RENTS. 
 
 167 
 
 " 6 What, to be shot at every night 1 ' 
 " ' Ah, now you are exaggerating. It's not so bad 
 as that.' 
 
 " 6 Do you mean to say you were never fired at V 
 
 " i Oh, as to that, it does sometimes happen : I was 
 shot at last night within a mile of my own house. 
 By the bye, that reminds me I must buy a new hat/ 
 and he displayed his old one with a bullet-hole through 
 it. I stared with astonishment, for my friend had 
 actually supped with me immediately after the event, 
 and never alluded to it. 
 
 "As I had had no startling hint respecting the 
 danger I had myself personally run, I proposed to take 
 a stroll, and then to return to Limerick. We did so. 
 
 Mr. H slept at Tipperary, and the next day visited 
 
 Bill, and Tim, and Macarthy, and the rest of his now 
 friendly tenants. 
 
 " Certainly Ireland is a strange country." 
 
ICS 
 
 THE CHARMED BULLETS. 
 
 As I came up in the steamboat from Kilkee with my 
 daring friend Vokes, I could not help blaming him, in 
 no measured terms, for the reckless manner in which 
 he was in the habit of running into every danger, and 
 took this opportunity of remonstrating with him, as I 
 had only just heard that two days before he had rode 
 unarmed, and unsupported, save by a single orderly, into 
 the middle of a faction fight, and seized a notorious cha- 
 racter, although he full well knew that there were hun- 
 dreds of persons engaged in that struggle who had pri- 
 vately and solemnly sworn to take his life whenever an 
 opportunity offered. And where indeed could such an 
 occasion so appositely present itself as in the midst of 
 a violent tumult, where no one could in particular be 
 identified as committing a murder, since all around 
 was noise, riot, and bloodshed ? How foolhardy, then, 
 must be the man who thus, as it were, purposely and 
 knowingly braved a fearful doom. 
 
 " Giggy mi goto /" — (a favourite term of derision used 
 by my friend) — " Giggy mi gow ! Sure aint I here safe 
 and unhurt, and why are you thus mourning and 
 croning over me as if I was a corpse at your feet 1 
 Faith, your dull look and your lachrymose tone are 
 both too melancholy even for a well-conducted wake." 
 
THE CHARMED BULLETS. 
 
 169 
 
 " But if you care so little about your own life, recol- 
 lect you have a wife and children." 
 
 u Bother, Master Hal. Don't I tell you they wont 
 hurt me." 
 
 " But why i What prevents them P 
 
 "Well, then, I don't know. But perhaps it may 
 be, because they think I have a charmed life." 
 
 " A charmed life ? What do you mean ?" 
 
 " Oh, it's very simple; I'll tell you. You must 
 know that soon after I was appointed a magistrate 
 I went without any fixed intent to a great cattle 
 fair near Adare ; here I found some thousands of 
 farmers and others assembled, and here I heard all the 
 usual coping and squabbling, the sure concomitants of 
 such a festival. Several people had been taken up for 
 picking pockets,aud some for horse-stealing; one man had 
 houghed two cows out of spite, while another had ridden 
 off clear with a horse he had been allowed to mount, 
 and had not yet been overtaken. The usual number of 
 broken heads had been patched up and bathed in whisky, 
 while one or two who had had their arms and legs 
 broken had been carried off to hospital — in a word it 
 was a regular Irish fair, and I felt, as a magistrate, 
 that before long my duties would become onerous. 
 I must tell you, however, that a short time before this 
 I had been shot at, whilst sitting at table, and though 
 the ball had passed between my body and my arm I 
 was not touched, and that on another occasion I had 
 an equally narrow escape. So the superstitious peasantry 
 began to talk about my having ' a charmed life/ and 
 all that sort of nonsense. 
 
 " I might, however, have been about two hours in the 
 
170 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 fair when a young respectably dressed farmer came up 
 to me and challenged me to sell the mare I was riding. 
 Now it so happened that it was the very thing I wished 
 to do. So, after some apparent objections, I, with 
 seeming reluctance, assented. The farmer required a 
 short trial. This was but fair; so I got down, and he 
 was soon in my saddle. ' Walk, trot, or gallop him/ 
 said I, 'but do so along the road, and do not go beyond 
 the stone which stands about 150 yards off.' 'Agreed [' 
 replied the proposed purchaser, and away he went. 
 He first proceeded gently, then broke into a trot. At 
 this moment a policeman whispered in my ear — ' Sure 
 your worship, that's Jerry, the most clever horse robber 
 in Ireland.' I was startled, and at once saw through 
 the trick, so I roared to the rascal to come back, but 
 such was clearly not his intention, for without turning 
 his head he set off at full speed. I called louder and 
 louder, and the crowd, who always favour a clever 
 thief, cheered him for his activity. I seized a long 
 horse-pistol from the policeman's holster, and roared out 
 that I'd shoot him if he did not stop. ' You'll shoot 
 your horse, Major,' cried a bystander, grinning. 'He's 
 too far off by half,' added another. s Could you shoot 
 the moon V screamed a would-be wit, and they all began 
 laughing. 
 
 " ( Boys,' said I, ' I'll bring that fellow down. It's 
 true he's far beyond the usual shot, but I'll hit him. 
 I wont kill him, but I'll hit him in the heel,' and 
 instantly levelling the pistol I fired. In another 
 moment, to the astonishment — I may fairly say the 
 dismay — of the crowd, the fellow was heard to scream 
 out, and, with a fearful bound from the saddle, he fell 
 
THE CHARMED BULLETS. 
 
 171 
 
 wounded on the road, while my horse galloped on 
 without a rider. 
 
 "To depict the surprise of the people assembled would 
 be impossible. The shot was at a range of 300 or 400 
 yards, made with an old police pistol and carelessly 
 aimed. They could scarcely believe the evidence of 
 their eyes. But when some of those who had run off 
 to the spot, screamed out that ' Jerry was shot in the 
 heel !' and when, on his being brought back, it was 
 discovered that the ball had acctually divided the 
 tendon Achilles, their astonishment vented itself in loud 
 exclamations — all declaring that it was a charmed 
 shot — ' that I was in league with certain nameless 
 powers' — 'that, faith, that same Major was something 
 more than a man.' In fear they shrank from me, and 
 during the whole day not a soul would approach me ; 
 and thus it was my claims to the possession of super- 
 natural protection first arose. Poor Jerry had three 
 months' imprisonment, but he never murmured. He 
 only blamed his luck in having these bad dealings 
 with the devil. Another act, somewhat similar, soon 
 after confirmed my demoniac character, and after all 
 it has so aided me, although I have loudly disclaimed 
 it and much dislike it, that I laugh at any threat they 
 make." 
 
 Arriving early at the cottage, and having nothing 
 else to do, we together took a stroll in the country — 
 followed in the distance by a couple of policemen, a 
 most necessary precaution, which had I been consulted 
 I should certainly have doubled. 
 
 After an hour's walk I felt thirsty, so we turned 
 into the house of a small farmer, who professed to be a 
 
172 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 great friend of Vokes. Here I asked for a cup of 
 milk, or buttermilk. But the worthy tiller of the 
 land was far too hospitable to hear of this ; he insisted 
 on my taking a piece of bread and cheese (for he was 
 what is called a comfortable farmer) and a glass of cold 
 whisky- and- water. After some objection I consented, 
 and he went to the cupboard to take them out. 
 Scarcely had he opened it, when Yokes suddenly called 
 in the policemen, and desired them to seize the man. 
 " Halpin, put handcuffs on that fellow, and take 
 him across to "Rathbane, while you, Reedy, search 
 the closet, and bring all the contents with the pri- 
 soner." 
 
 I stared with undisguised astonishment. The poor 
 agriculturist turned pale, but held out his hands to be 
 manacled without uttering a word. 
 
 Sergeant Reedy now announced the contents of 
 the cupboard — a piece of cheese and a loaf, half a bottle 
 of whisky, a pack of cards, a prayer-book, and three 
 pistol balls. Nothing more. 
 
 " That will do," replied Vokes. " Bring him along, 
 and don't let him touch any of the things." I was 
 dumbfoundered. Why a civil and obliging peasant, 
 on whom we had called by the merest accident, should 
 be thus cruelly and savagely treated I could not for 
 the life of me understand. I had often seen the Major 
 do strange things, but this beat all. Thus to disgrace 
 a kind and hospitable fellow, without any apparent 
 cause, seemed the very height of tyranny, and I felt 
 inclined, as I had been partly the cause of the man's 
 seizure by visiting his cottage, to remonstrate with 
 Vokes. But then, again, I knew that he was a just man, 
 
THE CHARMED BULLETS. 
 
 173 
 
 and that he never acted harshly unnecessarily. And 
 I also well knew he disliked cross-questioning, so I 
 determined not to say a word till we were once more 
 alone. In the meantime, I vainly puzzled my brain to 
 pick out — either from the conduct of the man, his 
 appearance, or the articles found in his safe — what 
 possible circumstance could thus have placed him in 
 arrest. 
 
 We soon arrived, and Yokes instantly proceeded to 
 interrogate the prisoner ; but not until he had sum- 
 moned his secretary to be present — a somewhat unusual 
 formality. But this he so far explained, as to state 
 that as the affair was one in which he himself was per- 
 sonally interested, lie wished everything to be con- 
 ducted as publicly as possible. So while the magistrate, 
 his secretary, and myself sat at the table, the prisoner 
 stood, apparently in some agitation, at a short distance, 
 surrounded by policemen. 
 
 Yokes at once began. 
 
 " Your name is Hayes — Tim Hayes, I believe I" 
 " It is, your worship." 
 
 " You are a tenant on the lands of Kilballycrow ?" 
 "I am." 
 
 "And now, my good friend, you need only answer 
 such questions as you think proper, for I tell you 
 fairly, if you say anything to criminate yourself it will 
 be noted down. Do you understand ?" 
 
 " I do, your honour. Sure my foster-brother's an 
 attorney." 
 
 " How long have you lived in your present farm ?" 
 " Five years." 
 
 " I believe you have no arms ?" 
 
1?4 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE, 
 
 "None, Major. I'll swear I have not a weapon of 
 any kind." 
 
 " I know that/' replied the functionary, quickly ; 
 " but your cousin Carniody has a fine long pistol V 9 
 
 The prisoner turned pale, and rather stammered out, 
 " I b'lieve he has — that is, I don't know." 
 
 " Yes, you do, Tim — yes, you do ; for you've cast 
 bullets for it." 
 
 " The saints be good to us. Is it that, you mane ?" 
 cried the now trembling captive. " I never cast 
 any." 
 
 " Didn't you cast the three we found in the cup- 
 board?" 
 
 " Not I, then. Sure I don't know how it was done ; 
 them was brought me by my cousin, and left there by 
 accident." 
 
 " Search the prisoner !" ordered Vekes. His pockets 
 were rifled, and a bullet-mould produced. The man 
 actually groaned with terror. 
 
 " What do you say now V 
 
 "Faith, I forgot it. Carmody must have put it 
 there.'* 
 
 " Of what are those bullets made P 
 " I don't know," groaned the poor wretch. 
 u Yes, you do. Reedy, split one of those balls and 
 give it to me." This was done. " Exactly as I thought. 
 They are of silver — silver, Master Hayes — pure silver, 
 and consequently meant for me. I have long known 
 that Carmody has sworn to shoot me ; and I also 
 know that he declared he'd get silver bullets to 
 shoot me, as I possess a charmed life, and nothing else 
 could destroy it. All this I knew j but I was not 
 
THE CHARMED BULLETS. 
 
 115 
 
 aware as I am now that you were selected to cast 
 them." 
 
 The unhappy prisoner threw himself on his knees, and 
 earnestly offered to confess all. " Sure he knew from 
 the beginning that it wo\ild have a bad end ; he felt 
 everything was known to the magistrate ; he'd betray 
 his companions ; he'd do anything ; but he hoped he 
 would not be punished, as he only did it because the 
 bad lot fe]l on him at a game of cards." 
 
 " Take him down to my office in William-street, and 
 I'll see about it ; all will depend upon how much you 
 have to reveal, and how far your truth may be 
 relied on." 
 
 "Oh, as to that 
 
 "Away with him," and the man still calling out for 
 mercy, was hurried off. 
 
 " Didn't I tell you, Harry, I bore a charmed life ? 
 What do you say now ? Believe me, the superstitious 
 fear of his enemy is a better buckler for a soldier to 
 rely upon, than the best arm he himself carries. Come, 
 my boy, the ladies are waiting for us, and we must 
 really be punctual, or, after all, I may perhaps lose ' my 
 charm!'" 
 
176 
 
 THE VASES. 
 
 I have seen and recorded so many scenes displaying 
 the presence of mind possessed by Mr. Yokes, that few 
 who have known him, or read these pages, can doubt 
 his perfect coolness in the hour of danger. I have 
 touched, however, but very slightly on the extra- 
 ordinary way in which he carried these qualties into 
 private life. I will therefore now devote a few lines in 
 illustration of this strange, and much to be envied faculty 
 of mind. I will premise this short sketch by stating, that 
 the police functionary was one of the best fathers that 
 ever existed, and that even in the moments of his 
 greatest excitement, even when rebellion and danger 
 threatened around, and he was called on and worried by 
 conflicting parties, he never uttered an unkind word 
 to his family, either of the first, or second, generation. 
 His love for his children could only be exceeded by 
 that which he bore for his grandchildren ; with them 
 the stern magistrate would play as a child, and woe 
 betide the member of his circle who dared to affront 
 one of those little ones : " the darlings were youug ; 
 contradiction would injure their health ; sure they'll 
 know sorrow soon enough ; they must not be vexed 
 now." Such were the principles laid down by our 
 
THE VASES. ]7 7 
 
 friend Yokes. Of his love, more particularly for one 
 of these children, I am about to give a sketch 
 
 Our worthy C.M.P. had been engaged all day in the 
 county court-house; some most important trials, in 
 which Vokes was officially concerned, here takin» place • 
 he was unable to leave the case even for a moment' 
 and was detained some eight or ten hours. At length 
 the verd.ct was pronounced, and the tired and worn- 
 out magistrate returned to his home. 
 
 In the drawing-room he found his' family assembled 
 awaiting his arrival, and none more so than his little 
 grandson George, who, to tell the honest truth was I 
 beheve. thegrandsire's pet, and who warmly recipro- 
 cated his attachment. " 
 
 After a few moments' conversation on other matters 
 and after having been supplied with some necessary 
 refreshments, two porcelain vases were pointed out to 
 Vokes-two most exquisite specimens of Sevres china 
 -which had been sent to him as a great present from 
 Dresden In the pride of her heart, his wife had placed 
 these highly-prized objects of vertu on the mantelpiece 
 and now pointed out their beauteous effect 
 
 Every one admired them, and a friend who had ac- 
 companied t h e magistrate home, a man of some travel 
 and taste, declared their value to be at least 501 
 
 The child, seeing the attention of every one directed to 
 
 these tempting looking toys, desirous of possessing them 
 or jealous of the admiration they excited, had quietly and 
 unseen climbed np, and in the next instant, in his 
 endeavours to grasp the glittering china, dragged it 
 down With a loud crash it fell upon the Wh, 
 and dashed into a thousand pieces. 
 
 12 
 
178 RECOLLECTIONS OF AX IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 All around uttered an involuntary cry, while tin- 
 wretched little culprit stood in silent agony, gazing on 
 the wreck which he had caused ; pale, trembling, his 
 mouth wide open, his eyes transfixed, too frightened to 
 cry ; he stood the very image of mute despair. 
 
 In an instant, quick as lightning could flash, Vokes 
 had sprung forward, and seizing the fellow vase, dashed 
 it on the fender beside its broken companion, crying 
 out, " Gcorgy, darling, you see I can do that as well as 
 you !" and then burst out laughing. 
 
 In a moment the child recovered its serenity, and 
 ran up smiling to its grandpapa — " Darling Big Tom"' 
 (so he loved to be called,) " can do everything better 
 than Georgy." 
 
 The little fellow by this act was probably saved 
 from convulsions, and his kind relative considered that 
 such an escape was cheaply purchased, even at the price 
 of his beautiful ornaments. He again smiled, and 
 assured that the boy was all right, played with him for a 
 few minutes and then had him conveyed to bed ; while 
 he went down to consult over certain documents with 
 Sir Matthew Barrington, the clerk of the crown (his 
 most intimate friend) — documents which properly or 
 improperly treated might save or destroy the lives of 
 several accused persons. 
 
 Like the elephant, who when enraged, frequently 
 runs a sort of muck, destroying every man or brute 
 he meets upon the way, yet carefully places aside and 
 in safety the new-born baby lie finds in his path, so 
 Yokes, even in his moments of the greatest anger or 
 agitation, might be at once calmed by the sight of one 
 of his loved children. 
 
179 
 
 A SLIGHT MISTAKE. 
 
 George L — - was an intimate friend of Vokes The 
 latter had laid him under some slight obligation, and 
 George possessed a grateful heart. He used, therefore 
 vociferously to declare, he'd go through fire and water 
 for the Major. On the other hand, my relative had a 
 real friendship for the young man, who was decidedly 
 not only one of the best riders and the best shots, but 
 one of the jolliesi fellows in the county of Limerick. 
 Not a race-not a wake-not a pattern could take 
 place but George was there; indeed, no orgie was 
 complete without his presence, who could drink punch 
 or troll a hunting song with any man between the 
 Sun and Shannon. I need not say that on some of 
 these occasions our friend was the life and soul of the 
 circle by whom he was surrounded. He was univer- 
 sally popular, and consequently sought out; he there, 
 fore^ometimes might be found in company unworthy 
 
 It was on an occasion of this kind that the following 
 afiair occurred. ° 
 
 George was spending his evening at a country town, 
 near Bird s Hill, after a day's fishing at KiUaloe. He 
 was half asleep, dozing over his often-renewed pipe, 
 
 12 2 
 
180 RFX'OLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 when he heard the sound of several loud voices in the 
 adjoining tap. Ever, and equally, ready for a "fray 
 or a feast," George did not hesitate, but at once walked 
 into the room where the apparent disputants were 
 assembled ; but who at a glance might be discovered 
 to be warm friends talking loudly and together, but 
 
 by no means differing in opinion. As L walked 
 
 in, the conversation ceased. The new comer prayed 
 them to renew it. A few questions were put to liini by 
 one who seemed to take a lead in the conversation, 
 and, on his pronouncing " all's right," the broken 
 thread was renewed, and the subject, interrupted for a 
 moment, again continued in half whispers; George, 
 who was evidently taken for an English tourist, and 
 therefore wholly unacquainted with the Irish language, 
 seemed little noticed, while, as I said before, the ani- 
 mated discourse was again renewed in pure Irish. 
 
 George, however, well knew his native tongue, and 
 attentively listened, while a deliberate and extensive 
 cruel outrage was planned. But what struck him with 
 more horror than the rest, was the proposal made by a 
 little miserable cripple with a shock -red head, that if it 
 was determined that " Major Vokes M — that " curse of 
 the world" — was to be destroyed, the job should be left; 
 to him to accomplish. All the party assented to this. 
 For, to tell the truth, few envied the little wretch 
 the risk he would thus incur. He was therefore fully 
 nominated as the murderer of that devil's child, Tom 
 Yokes; and, the better to inaugurate the appointment, 
 a fresh tumbler of punch was given to this wicked 
 lump of deformity. Far from being frightened at the 
 danger, the savage dwarf seemed rather to exult in the 
 task. 
 
A SLIGHT MISTAKE. 181 
 
 George could scarcely contain himself; and while 
 they then proceeded to plan and arrange an extensive 
 and cruel murder, which it appears they had long 
 settled on, ho carefully concealed his emotion, and 
 sat plotting how he could thwart their designs. It is 
 true, he had intended to pass the night at Bird's Hill, 
 but now he was all anxiety to meet Vokes and tell 
 him what he had heard. He therefore opuetly left the 
 room, and obtained an outside car to convey him into 
 Limerick ; before, however, he started, he once more 
 looked into the tap-room, but it was too late, the party 
 had all broken up and left. George almost blamed 
 himself for not having prevented it ; but then how 
 could a single man, and that man unarmed, effect 
 this 1 
 
 He now jumped on the car, and desired the driver 
 to gallop into Limerick. He promised the fellow half- 
 a-crown if he got there in an hour. Need I say, the 
 old horse was whipped into his best pace 1 
 
 G - L llad scarcely proceeded a mile, when he over- 
 took a solitary individual. To his great joy he per- 
 ceived it was the stunted ruffian who had agreed to 
 murder his friend. He did not hesitate a moment, but 
 stopping the vehicle, he jumped off and seized the 
 fellow, who, without any resistance (for, indeed, 
 against such a comparative Hercules such an attempt 
 would have been madness) allowed himself quietly to 
 be placed on the car and driven into Limerick. 
 
 As they approached Vokes's house, George watched 
 him closely, expecting every instant that he would 
 endeavour to make his escape. But the wretch, though 
 apparently conscious of his danger, made no effort to 
 
182 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 get away. The chief magistrate was at his cottage, a 
 circumstance which pleased our friend, as his rustic 
 residence was used frequently by the Major as a semi- 
 police-office. So to Rathbane he drove, in full triumph, 
 with his captive. 
 
 We were sitting at supper when L arrived, who 
 
 insisted, even before he would taste food or imbibe a 
 single drop of the creature, on telling his tale of horror, 
 which I confess filled me with terror indescribable. 
 Not so Vokes. I suppose habit had indurated his 
 feelings. He had become professionally calm. Let it 
 be as it might, there he sat, without displaying the 
 slightest emotion. George seemed rather nettled at 
 the coldness with which his news had been received, 
 and then, fancying that his tale might possibly be dis- 
 believed, he vowed solemnly to the truth of what he 
 had asserted. 
 
 "And where is the ruffian that is to murder 
 
 me?" 
 
 " I left him in charge of two of your men, with 
 directions to shoot him if he attempted to escape." 
 
 Yokes rang the bell, and ordered him in. 
 
 George L- 's description was perfectly graphic. 
 
 The circumscribed monster that stood before me fully 
 realized the frightful description he had drawn of 
 him. 
 
 " Is this the man V y asked Vokes. 
 "It is," replied li is friend 
 
 11 1 thought as much," said the magistrate. " Take 
 him away ; lock him in the loft above the back kitchen, 
 and give the fellow something to eat. We may hang 
 him ; but we must not starve him. I ll come out and 
 
A SLIGHT MISTAKE. 
 
 183 
 
 examine him myself presently," and with that the 
 assassin was led away. 
 
 Guess, however, George's horror, as he plainly per- 
 ceived his friend the magistrate, unseen by any one 
 else, give a knowing-wink and a half-smile at the 
 bloodthirsty prisoner. 
 
 What this could mean was more than puzzling. 
 L felt indignant, and determined on closely cross- 
 questioning his friend the functionary. But the latter 
 gave him no opportunity ; he evaded his questions, 
 parried his queries, and by dint of sheer hospitality 
 and kindness compelled his guest to sit down and 
 share his supper previous to giving those explanations, 
 which he promised to afford most amply to him when 
 the meal should be over. 
 
 The captor was of course compelled to Submit to 
 these conditions, and we again sat down to our long- 
 interrupted evening repast. "Why or wherefore I knew 
 not, but my relative seemed fidgety and anxious, and 
 evidently lingered over his supper. Of course all this 
 was a mystery to me. 
 
 Just as we had concluded, a knock was heard at the 
 door, and the chief magistrate loudly called to the 
 person outside to enter. A horse-policeman (I think 
 it was Sergeant Macgrath) came in covered with mud 
 and dirt, as if he had ridden in at full speed, and going 
 up to the Major he whispered a word in his ear. 
 
 In an instant all care was banished from our enter- 
 tainer's brow. 11 Go and meet them, and bring them 
 in here, as quick as you can." 
 
 4 - Yes, sir," said the sergeant, as he saluted, and 
 then closed the door after him. 
 
184 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH TOLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 44 And now for a tumbler of grog." 
 
 "Not so/' remonstrated George; "you have pro- 
 mised to give me some explanations. I think I 
 deserve them." 
 
 " Well, that's true for you. But I have my reasons. 
 I faithfully promise you that in ten minutes all shall be 
 el cared up, 
 
 That period had scarcely elapsed, when another knock 
 was heard, and on the door opening, again marched in 
 the weather-beaten sergeant, followed by no less than 
 four prisoners, strongly handcuffed, and escorted by 
 a half-dozen of policemen, armed with carbines. 
 
 Vokes took the whole affair as a matter of course, 
 and coolly turning to George, asked, 
 
 " Do you recognise these men ?" 
 
 " By Heaven, I do. They are the four scoundrels I 
 left two hours ago at Bird's Hill, plotting a murder," 
 cried he, his eyes wide open from astonishment. 
 
 " Can you identify them?" 
 
 " That I most certainly can. But how they came 
 here it is impossible to say. I only know I had no 
 hand in it. 1 only arrested the other ruffian, the — " 
 
 "Hush!" quickly interrupted Yokes. "Not a word 
 of that. It is enough. March them down, sergeant, 
 to the county jail ; let them be lodged separately. Off 
 with them and away the wretches were marched. 
 
 George, now in real anger, turned upon him whom he 
 had hitherto so highly respected. " MajorYokes, I would 
 have gone to the death for you ; but you have now 
 offended me. You have treated my efforts with con- 
 tempt.' 
 
 " By no means." 
 
A SLIGHT MISTAKE. 
 
 185 
 
 " How ] Have you not received all my revelations 
 with coolness and carelessness'? Have you not smiled 
 on the base villain who would have murdered you. It 
 is true that you have captured the gang without my 
 aid, and thus my services are of no use — " 
 
 " Georgy, my boy, don't talk like an angry child, 
 and I'll tell you all. But you must keep my present 
 explanations a strict secret. You have conferred a 
 most lasting favour on me. You can now identify 
 these ruffians whom I have long endeavoured to entrap, 
 and thus save me from bringing forward my most valu- 
 able approver, whose loss would indeed be most fatal 
 to the ends of justice ; yet who, if once publicly known, 
 must quit this country for ever within an hour after 
 he gives evidence in court, or he would be too surely 
 destroyed. You, however, as a free country gentleman, 
 run no such risk, and thus through your means I 
 preserve my most valuable agent." 
 " And who is this valued gem V 
 " The well-looking young gentleman you were good 
 enough to bring up to me; the little gentleman who 
 wormed himself into the confidence of these ruffians by 
 promising to destroy me. He has had his supper ; he has 
 doubtlessly drunk your health, and is now comfortably 
 snoring within ten yards of us. I'd not have a hair of 
 his clever head injured for his weight in gold." 
 
 " But how then came the police to take charge of 
 him when I ordered them V 
 
 " Then upon my honour they don't know who he is, 
 more than you then did. Now mind and keep my 
 secret, for you already know more of my tactics than 
 
18G RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH TOLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 any man in the county. We'll transport those would- 
 be murderers at the next assizes ; you shall have all 
 the glory of it." 
 
 "And so I ought," growled George, "after making 
 such a confounded fool of myself." 
 
187 
 
 THE THREATENING- LETTEK. 
 
 I came down late to breakfast, arid found my worthy 
 relative reading his letters ; one of these more particu- 
 larly seemed to engage his attention. For several 
 minutes he sat pondering over it, and turned it over 
 and over again, closely examined the superscription 
 and the post-mark, and peered curiously at the writing. 
 Presently he rose, and after glancing at the edges of 
 the half-3heefc, on which the communication was 
 written, went to the window and held up the paper 
 against the pane of glass, at the same time taking out 
 a magnify in g-glass. He most minutely examined the 
 document, doubtlessly wishing to discover a water-mark 
 or other indication by which he might ascertain the 
 identity of the writer. His efforts seemed fruitless, 
 for with a slight " hem !" indicative of disappoint- 
 ment, he again folded up the epistle and put it in his 
 pocket, then joined with a smiling countenance and an 
 honest appetite the excellent meal his hospitality had 
 placed before us. 
 
 Breakfast over, he suddenly turned round to me. 
 
 " Harry, my boy, you seemed curious to know the 
 contents of the letter I examined so carefully just 
 now ?" 
 
188 Ili:COLLECTIONS OF AX IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 "It is perfectly true." 
 
 " Well, then, I'll satisfy your curiosity. Head it : 
 it is a perfect gem of its kind." 
 
 He threw me over the note, which, from the address, 
 I perceived came from some person belonging to an 
 inferior class, for the writing was of the worst descrip- 
 tion, whilst the missive itself was dirtied and crum- 
 pled — two favours evidently bestowed upon it previous 
 to its having been dropped into the post. From the 
 outside, then, I expected some u peasant literature " 
 to be found within, and tearing it open, I was already 
 moulding my mouth to a hearty laugh, when to my 
 horror and surprise I found the communication headed 
 by a rude sketch of a coffin. I now perused it seriously ; 
 it ran thus — 
 
 " Let the fate of young Martin be a warning. His father, like 
 yourself, was a cruel magistrate, and didn't we kill bis son ? Didn't 
 we kill him as we left chapel, within ten yards of the door, and 
 though the poor boy went down on his knees and begged for his 
 life, and though he tried to cling for mercy to several who knew 
 him well, and though we knew the priest would set his face against 
 us for it — yet we then and there destroyed him ; and he only a poor 
 innocent boy ? how much more, then, shall we delight in killing 
 you — you murderous villain of the world. By the light that shines 
 
 — by the cross we love— by if you don't release Pat Toomey, 
 
 and leave off worrying and murdering the boys, you shall be a dead 
 man in three days. So order your coffin. By night, by day, by 
 twilight, we are on your track. Thirty boys, who never flinched, 
 have sworn your death. So Tom Vokes prepare for your certain and 
 cruel end. I have sworn it. 
 
 " PADDY MOONLIGHT."* 
 
 * I have turned the words, into good English, as few of my readers, 
 I fear, could understand the strange terms used iu the original. I 
 have also suppressed the real name of the victim, though every 
 Limerick man of a certain age will recognise it. 
 
THE THREATENING LETTER. 
 
 189 
 
 "What do you think of that ?" 
 " By Heaven ! it horrifies me. What do you mean 
 to do r 
 
 " Discover the foolish writer, if I can." 
 And is that all? Do you call a threat like this 
 foolish ? Why, it is horrible — barbarous — savage P 
 
 " Griggy mi gow ! Sure it's only foolish — nothing 
 more ! Don't I know all that it contains ? Hav'n't I 
 caught and convicted the murderers of that poor boy, 
 one of the nicest lad's that ever lived ? Don't I know 
 that there are plenty of persons who have vowed to de- 
 stroy me? There's not much news in that ; and the only 
 wonder is that they don't effect their purpose. But 
 not by letters like this. It is useful as a warning, it 
 may be useful as evidence, and, above all, it may lead, 
 and I've no doubt it will, to the detection of the gang. 
 So you see I'm quite justified in saying that the fellow 
 was a fool for writing it. But don't let's talk any more 
 about it — don't mention it to a soul, but go off to bar- 
 racks with a light heart, while I go down to the police- 
 office." 
 
 " Under the present circumstances you surely would 
 not walk T 
 
 " Bah ! Go and attend your parade ; don't mind 
 me. I'll die in my bed yet ;" and away went Yokes in 
 high good-humour. 
 
 Two days elapsed, but the busy magistrate never 
 referred to the subject ; the family were fortunately 
 ignorant of it, and my own business had driven the 
 recollection of the anonymous letter out of my head ; 
 and if I ever did think of it, it was rather to do so 
 with derision, for I now fully began to agree with my 
 
190 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 friend that it was a mere idle threat, when the follow- 
 ing incident recalled it to my memory. 
 
 It was on the third evening following — say, about 
 seven o'clock — the stars were shining clearly, and the 
 frozen damp cracked under each footstep, that Yokes 
 was walking home to the cottage to partake of a late 
 dinner. As the moon had nob yet risen, the surround- 
 ing scenery was still partly buried in darkness ; but the 
 starlight did its part, and objects in the immediate 
 vicinity might easily be discerned. 
 
 He had arrived at the top of Upper William-street, 
 where the roads fork into two wide branches. His route 
 was to the right, but just as he was about to diverge, a 
 young girl, apparently of about sixteen years of age, 
 and, from the slight glimpse which could be caught 
 tli rough the opening of her cloak, (for she wore it in the 
 Irish manner, thrown over her head and over her face 
 like a cowl) rather well-looking, stepped forward, and 
 in the most piteous and whining terms besought u the 
 gentleman to come and see her poor grandmother, who 
 was dying and though Vokes showed her the total 
 inutility of doing so, she still urged him in the most 
 pathetic manner to accompany her. Now, if the truth 
 must really be admitted, it is as well to confess that a 
 pretty lace was a wonderful argument with the worthy 
 magistrate, who, after vainly endeavouring to shake off 
 the girl, at length — for reasons I shall not attempt to 
 fathom — consented to follow her to her cottage. So, 
 wrapping his cloak more closely around him, and his 
 pace unimpeded by any luggage, save by a roll of new 
 music he was carrying home, he trotted off after his 
 pretty young guide, who, at a speed which not a little 
 
THE THREATENING LETTER. 
 
 191 
 
 astonished the gallant Major, set off towards the left- 
 hand road. 
 
 My Limerick readers will remember a large tract 
 of waste land which formerly existed, and indeed which 
 still exists in a great measure, situated between the 
 road to Tipperary and that by which the mail-coach 
 used to travel to Dublin. It consisted of a large num- 
 ber of fields, on which only a cabin or two had then been 
 built ; near the Dublin side there was an old church- 
 yard, long since fallen into disuse. Across this plain 
 now hurried the girl, closely followed by the CM. P. 
 
 They had crossed a couple of fields, when they came 
 to a somewhat wide dyke. To Yokes' s surprise, the 
 active damsel jumped across it with ease, although my 
 relative found some difficulty in following. They soon 
 came to a second, across which the girl again sprang ; 
 but on this occasion — his suspicions aroused — the acute 
 magistrate watched her movements more narrowly, and 
 saw that, instead of being barefooted, as is usual with 
 Irish females of the lower class, she wore a pair of 
 strong brogues. Conviction at once entered the mind 
 of Yokes, and he hastily jumped after her. They had 
 not, however, proceeded ten paces, when he suddenly 
 seized the fair damsel, and throwing off his cloak, pre- 
 sented the roll of music (the only weapon he had) at 
 her head, and dashing off the covering which en- 
 veloped her, beheld, through the very imperfect 
 light, a boy standing before him, who, on his part, 
 fancying the music roll was nothing less than a horse- 
 pistol, began shouting for mercy. 
 
 " Silence, wretch ! or this instant is your last. Utter 
 
192 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 but one cry — refuse to answer me a single question — 
 and I blow your brains out." 
 
 " Oh, mercy, mercy, Major V 
 
 " Who sent you out V 
 
 " The two Wegeralds." 
 
 " And where are they ?" 
 
 "Just beyond, in the berring-ground. The Lofd 
 be good to us I" 
 
 "You'll walk into Limerick before me." 
 
 " Oh, Gradi ! Gradi ! sure you wouldn't hang a poor 
 
 i»d r 
 
 " That depends upon yourself. If you go quietly on 
 in front of me, and don't look back : if you tell me 
 all the strict truth, I'll uot hurt a hair of your head. 
 But if you attempt to give the alarm, or endeavour 
 to deceive me, you're just as dead as Julius Ca?sar," and 
 again Vokes flourished his arm, holding the music roll. 
 
 The affrighted boy — too glad thus lightly to escape, 
 returned with the chief magistrate, who, on his 
 arrival, immediately sent out a party to arrest the 
 would-be murderers ; while he despatched the boy 
 again (disguised as a female) to watch at the corner 
 of the street, whom the prisoners would be sure to see 
 as they passed; thu§ shielding him from the danger 
 he would incur were it known he had betrayed 
 his friends, and thus deeply concealing the source 
 whence Vokes derived his criminal information. 
 
 All turned out as he had foreseen. The prisoners, 
 disarmed and crest-fallen, stood before him. This I 
 knew, for alarmed at his long absence I came down to 
 William-street oflice to meet him. 
 
 "Search these men !" cried he, turning to a police- 
 
THE THREATENING LETTEK. 
 
 193 
 
 man. The functionary did so. Some powder and balls 
 were found in the pockets of one. In the other only 
 a pocket-handkerchief and a scrap of writing-paper. 
 
 " Hand me that piece of paper ! " The policeman 
 did so, when Yokes, to my surprise, closely examined 
 it — taking the greatest apparent interest in the inves- 
 tigation. Presently he pulled out of his pocket the 
 threatening letter he had received three clays before, 
 and holding them both up to the candle, called my 
 attention to the fact that they were identical, and 
 showed some very peculiar water-marks. 
 
 "That will do," continued he, replacing the letter in 
 his pocket. "That will do. Here, Sergeant, keep 
 this scrap of evidence till the trial. I now commit 
 them for having sent a threatening letter — one of the 
 very heaviest crimes they could commit." 
 
 " These men will be transported — the example in 
 this instance is worth the execution of a dozen mur- 
 derers," said Yokes, as we walked up to the cottage 
 afterwards. " These fearful missives are more dan- 
 gerous, and more thoroughly alarm and demoralize the 
 country, than even an assassination. If they are trans- 
 ported — which I am sure they will be — we shall have 
 no more of these menacing epistles for some time." 
 
 During the following assizes, the worthy magis- 
 trate's prediction was amply fulfilled. 
 
104 
 
 THE PIG MARKET. 
 
 I entered the Police-office in Limerick for the pur- 
 pose of asking my relative and friend, Major Vokes, to 
 join our pic-nic to Castle Connel, and as I had already 
 secured the attendance of his family, I little doubted 
 that the worthy functionary, who was ever ready to 
 make one of a jovial party, would assent. I found 
 him in the very midst of business. He was sitting in 
 a back parlour surrounded by policemen, while a 
 couple of wretched prisoners stood before him, accused 
 of some petty crime. As they were all talking in 
 Irish, it was impossible for me to discover the subject 
 of the present investigation ; but as I saw them led 
 away to undergo seven days' imprisonment, their crime 
 could not have been one of magnitude, and they left the 
 presence of the magistrate thanking him (as well as I 
 could understand them) for his leniency. How he could 
 manage to carry out the inquiry I was puzzled to 
 imagine, for the front room was crowded with bare- 
 footed females and well-clad men (such is the dress of 
 the lower orders of the Irish peasantry, and in which, 
 by- the- bye, they show little gallantry ; for while the 
 woman is bareheaded and barefooted, the man is com- 
 fortably clad in a pair of fustian breeches, good worsted 
 
THE PIG MARKET. 
 
 195 
 
 stockings, and a pair of strong shoes, and he always 
 wears a hat, such as it is), who continued to shout and 
 roar out their comments and opinions in spite of the 
 policemen, who kept driving them out of the office. 
 Babel must have boasted less confusion of tongues. 
 As the prisoners I had seen tried were let out, a 
 fashionably dressed gentleman (evidently a person of 
 respectability) was ushered in. The magistrate looked 
 up, but took no further notice. He offered him no 
 chair. He addressed him in the same tone and in the 
 same serious manner as that which he had made use of 
 towards the peasants. There was none of the flun- 
 keyism which we often see in the metropolitan courts 
 of England. Major Vokes evidently looked upon an 
 offender against the law as one to be adjudged, and, 
 if guilty, punished. He knew no distinctions of 
 rank. 
 
 The gentleman before him had committed some 
 gross breach of the fishing laws, and he adjudged him 
 to pay a heavy penalty, or the alternative of incarcera- 
 tion. The fine was paid, though the captain protested 
 strongly against the manner in which, as a gentleman, 
 he had been treated. 
 
 I now spoke to my friend, and asked him to join us ; 
 to this he assented, and there being no more business 
 to be done, he walked out of the office with me, his 
 hat stuck jauntily on one side, and a heavy riding- whip 
 under his arm. 
 
 " Come this way, Harry," said he, taking my arm; 
 " I want to meet some one in the Pig Market." 
 
 " Your expectant friend must be a bore," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 13—2 
 
196 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 Vokes laughed heartily at my poor attempt at wit, 
 and we lounged up to the top of William-street, where 
 the unsavory market was then held. 
 
 To describe the scene is quite impossible. It would 
 baffle the admitted powers of a Lever or a Carter Hall 
 to do so. Suffice it to say, the place was redolent with 
 the fumes of the very worst tobacco, smoked in the 
 dudeens of women as well as men, commingled with 
 the strong and certainly not pleasing perfume arising 
 from our porcine friends, together with the piercing 
 cries of the pigs, which were almost drowned by 
 shouts in a language wholly unintelligible to me. 
 
 Major Yokes was in unusually high spirits. He 
 asked the price of some of the animals before him. He 
 chatted with one or two young men about some pota- 
 toes he had purchased. He had a joke for more than 
 one pretty colyeen, and sent away the only policeman 
 present on some trivial errand. 
 
 All this was very fine ; but why he should walk up 
 and down in such a place I could not make out, and, 
 though I asked him the reason, he refused to satisfy 
 me. 
 
 Presently he stopped, and called to a tall, fine-look- 
 ing young man, who appeared to have nothing to do, 
 since he had scarcely moved from the spot where I first 
 saw him standing as we entered the market. 
 
 "Pat Conolly," said the Major, "why don't you 
 kill me.r 
 
 "Is it me, yer honour 1" demanded the other, turn- 
 ing rather pale. "Is it me would injure yer honour ! 
 Faix, theu, I don't understand ye." 
 
 " Don't you 1 Did you not swear at the shebeen 
 
THE PIG MARKET. 
 
 197 
 
 house, near Patrick's Well, last Tuesday night, 
 to shoot me to-day as I passed through the Pig 
 Market? Now, my fine fellow, why don't you 
 doit?" 
 
 " Oh, then, sure yer honour's glory they've been 
 telling you a lie. Is it me would do it ? Wasn't it 
 last winter you gave the wife a sack of potatoes ?" 
 
 " You had, perhaps, forgotten that circumstance 
 when you came here this morning to destroy me J" 
 
 " Oh, thin ! yer honour is joking." 
 
 "Am I!" 
 
 " Sure, thin, I'll swear by the holy — " and he raised 
 his hand to his breast. 
 
 Major Yokes, to my surprise, give him a sharp cut 
 across the arm, which at once brought it down in 
 agony, and stepping up to him, he thrust his hand 
 into the man's waistcoat, and drew forth an old pistol 
 loaded up to the muzzle. The man fell on his knees, 
 and began whining. 
 
 . " Get out of that, you cowardly hound ! I know 
 you, and shall have my eye upon you ; and when you 
 return to-night to Cahirconlish, you may tell Tim 
 Ryan if he attempts to fire into my windows, he 
 shall be hanged, as sure as I'm Tom Yokes. Be off!" 
 and he spurned him with his foot. The fellow rose, 
 and ran away like a frightened hare. 
 
 " But do you not mean to punish him T asked I. 
 
 " Oh, no. That would do little good. The effect of 
 his tale, told to-night amongst a lawless society, will 
 strike the whole party with more terror than if the 
 fellow were hanged." 
 
 H Yery likely ! very likely ! But will you do me a 
 
198 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 favour ! Never ask me again to parade up and down 
 in front of a fellow with a loaded pistol, ready and 
 anxious to commit murder." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! there's no danger. Now we'll go 
 and see about this pic-nic." 
 
199 
 
 TRIED AFFECTION. 
 
 " I have asked you, my dear Vokes, to call on me, in 
 order to consult you on an affair of some importance — 
 at least, as far as my family circle goes," said L. D. — to 
 the chief magistrate, as that functionary entered his 
 counting-house. 
 
 " Indeed ! If I can be of any service pray command 
 me." 
 
 " You remember Mary Toovey, whom you recom- 
 mended me as a trustworthy girl to assist in looking 
 after my children some six years ago 1" 
 
 " I remember her well. Her father was an honest 
 fellow in Adare. His daughter was brought up at P.'s 
 Sunday-school." 
 
 " Most true ; and until within a very few days I 
 always looked upon her as one of the best behaved 
 young women I have ever met with." 
 
 " And you have had reason to change your opinion 
 of her 1 " 
 
 " Unfortunately I have. You must know" — and here 
 
 L. D dropped his voice. " Unfortunately, I say, 
 
 I discovered that I had been systematically robbed of 
 a series of small sums, and, watching closely afterwards, 
 
200 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 I still perceived that these pilferings unhappily con- 
 tinued. It could only be some one under my roof 
 that thus abstracted small sums ; and as I have a 
 stable-boy of somewhat loose habits, I at once suspected 
 him, and accordingly I marked some pieces of silver 
 and placed them with two or three one pound note3 in 
 my drawer, leaving my keys, as if by accident, on the 
 the table. 
 
 " Having thus laid my plans to entrap the thief, I 
 went out to dinner and returned too late to make any 
 search that night. 
 
 " On the following moruing T went to the place where 
 I had deposited the cash, and here, to my great horror, 
 I found that a bank note and three half-crowns were 
 missing. 
 
 " Without telling them why I summoned them, I 
 called up my servants, and having locked the door, 
 stated to them what had occurred, and called on the 
 pilferer to confess the crime, and thus earn pardon. 
 
 " None, however, admitted the alleged guilt, and I 
 now, with their cheerful permission, proceeded to 
 search them. 
 
 M Imagine, my dear Yokes, my horror, when, after 
 vainly searching the servant man and some of the 
 females, I turned to your 2>rotege, and having ordered 
 her to display the contents of her pockets, I discovered 
 two of the half-crowns which I had marked, and 
 could now distinctly swear to. I called upon Mary 
 to explain this strange circumstance. I eagerly de- 
 manded to know how she had become possessed of 
 them. But, alas ! all in vain. She was dreadfully 
 agitated, and was only relieved from a fit of fainting 
 
TRIED AFFECTION. 
 
 201 
 
 by a copious flood of tears which came to her relief. 
 She is now downstairs in charge of a policeman. I 
 wished if possible to avoid the pain of sending her, 
 whom I have known for so many years, to prison, ani 
 therefore I wrote to ask you to call on me, and if 
 possible, assist me in discovering the particulars of this 
 distressing affair." 
 
 " Has she had any followers — male or female ! " 
 
 "None." 
 
 " Has she ever absented herself from the house 1 91 
 » Never." 
 
 " Do your "family know what has passed." 
 
 " No ; they are all at Kilrush, with the exception 
 of my eldest son, who assists me in business, and he 
 went last evening to Waterford, and will not return 
 before four o'clock. So, strange to say, not a soul is 
 aware of the discovery I have made." 
 
 " Call in the girl — let us examine her together." 
 
 The poor culprit came in, more dead than alive. 
 When she saw Yokes she covered her face with her 
 hands and burst into a flood of tears. For several 
 moments she was so convulsed that even the stern 
 magistrate hesitated to address her. At length, after 
 causing her to be placed on a chair, and having swal- 
 lowed a glass of water, she became calm, when he thus 
 spoke : — 
 
 " Mary Toovey, I am summoned here to interrogate 
 you relative to a robbery which has taken place in this 
 house ; and as part of the money, marked for the pur- 
 pose of detection, was found upon you, I have every 
 reason to believe that you are guilty. 5 ' 
 
 " I am ! indeed I am. I am a wretched girl, sir," 
 
202 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 cried the prisoner, throwing herself on her knees 
 before him. 
 
 " And yet, religiously and well brought up, I can 
 scarcely believe that you could have acted so base, so 
 ungrateful a part, as thus to rob your employers. I 
 would rather have suspected any one in the house 
 than you." 
 
 " Oh, sir, indeed, sir, it was L I am a wicked, bad 
 girl, and I confess the crime." 
 
 " Are you sure that no one instigated you — no one 
 advised you to commit this robbery P 
 
 " No, sir — no one. It was all my own doing." 
 
 " And still I think it is my duty to inquire further. 
 I will, if possible, discover your accomplices." 
 
 " I have none — I have none. I alone am to blame." 
 
 The worthy merchant now chimed in ; " Mary, I 
 am told, by Michael the groom, that he saw you two 
 nights ago talking with a strange man in the garden." 
 
 " Its false— it's false." 
 
 " Have you mentioned this to any one P asked Yokes 
 
 of L. D 
 
 " To no one." 
 
 Yokes again turned to the girl. u Are you still 
 determined to admit your guilt P 
 
 She had now recovered her calmness, and answered 
 firmly, " I am !" 
 
 " " Do you know the consequences ] Do you know that 
 if found guilty you will receive a fearful punishment r f" 
 
 « I do?' 
 
 u And still to save youself you will not betray your 
 accomplices 1" 
 
 " I have none. I alone am guilty — I confess ir/ 5 
 
TRIED AFFECTION. 
 
 203 
 
 " Take her away, sergeant. I must inquire further 
 into this affair and trembling far less, seemingly 
 relieved at having thus unburthened her conscience, 
 the "wretched girl was led away. 
 
 When she w r as gone, the Major turned round and 
 addressed his friend. 
 
 " If you do not insist on it, I will not commit this 
 girl till to-morrow. In the meantime we may dis- 
 cover her accomplices. It's very strange — very ! But, 
 by George, I can't believe Mary to be guilty." 
 
 " But her own admission — the money found on 
 her?" 
 
 "All true; such proofs should be convincing ; but 
 still I am not satisfied. Do me a favour. Come 
 you,- and your son, to dine with me to-day, at six 
 o'clock, and we'll talk it over ; but mind, don't men- 
 tion the circumstance to a single soul on earth — not 
 even to your own son. Don't write it to your family ; 
 and if any one asks you for Mary, say she's gone to 
 Adare to see her friends. Pray do this, and you will 
 oblige me." 
 
 " Certainly you make a strange request ; but I'll 
 strictly attend to your directions, and be at your house, 
 with my son George, at six. Perhaps it will be better ; 
 for my wife and daughter, and even George, who is 
 generally very distant and haughty, is very partial to 
 this girl. I can assure you, Major, we have treated 
 her rather as our child than our servant, which makes 
 her conduct the more detestable." 
 
 " True for you ; but now, adieu. Remember — six, 
 and silence. And off went the police functionary to- 
 wards his office. 
 
204 RECOLLECTIONS OF AX IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 On arriving there, he called for Macdonald, a young 
 policeman whom he often entrusted as a messenger. 
 
 " You took a note for me to young Mr. D , some 
 
 evenings ago, relative to lending him a hunter?" 
 
 " Is it Mr. George you mean ?" 
 
 « I do." 
 
 u Well, sir, I delivered it to him, and he said there 
 was no answer." 
 
 " I am aware of that. Where did you find Mr. 
 
 George ?" 
 
 " In the billiard-room beyont — in George-street." 
 "And what was he about V 
 
 " Well, your worship, I cant rightly say ; I didn't 
 much observe. Bub I saw him drinking and smoking/' 
 
 "Was he betting?" 
 
 " Ah, then, Major, I can't say surely ; but I think he 
 was, for one of the young officers from the barracks 
 called out and said, * You've lost, George and so I 
 suppose he was, your worship." 
 
 " That will do," said Vokes, and then proceeded to 
 try one or two cases of drunkenness and riot which 
 were brought before him for judgment. Presently he 
 got up, and putting on his hat, he strolled leisurely up 
 George-street. 
 
 On arriving in front of Mr. S.'s shop — at once a 
 place for refreshment, the supply of tobacco and 
 punch, with a billiard-room attached — he turned in, 
 and after partaking of a sandwich, he carelessly asked 
 the female who was at that instant serving behind the 
 counter, whether Mr. G. D had been in lately. 
 
 " Not since yesterday morning." 
 
 " WJiat did he call for then % n 
 
TRIED AFFECTION, 
 
 205 
 
 " He came to get some cigars, as he was about to go 
 out of town ; and he left a pound-note with me to 
 hand to Captain D , that he had lost on the races." 
 
 " Have you got that pound-note ?*' 
 
 " No, sir," replied the girl, who seemed startled at 
 the inquiry. 
 
 " Did he pay you for the cigars ?" 
 
 « He did." 
 
 H How did he pay you t< 
 
 " With a half-crown piece." 
 
 " Have you got that half-crown ¥' 
 
 "I believe it's still in the tobacco till. I hope, 
 Major, it's not a bad one; it may bring me into 
 trouble." And fearful of being mixed up with the 
 transaction, she examined the till with anxious care, 
 and at length triumphantly pulled out the piece of 
 money in question. " Here it is, sir ; sure I didn't 
 know it was bad, and I'm sure Mr. George didn't. 
 Here it is." . And she handed it to Yokes, who, after 
 peering at it with great curiosity, put it into his pocket, 
 and then throwing down two shillings and a sixpence, 
 carelessly said — 
 
 " Don't you see, I suspect there's some bad money 
 in Limerick, so I'll take away this piece. But don't 
 tell a living soul what I've done, or faith I'll have you 
 up for a witness." 
 
 This threat was quite sufficient to render the girl 
 dumb. So Yokes, without further conversation, walked 
 up to his cottage, where he was carrying out some im- 
 provements. 
 
 At six o'clock precisely, Mr. L. D and his son 
 
 arrived in George-street, and shortly afterwards partook 
 
206 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 of a most excellent dinner, which I was lucky enough 
 to share. No other guest was present, and all ap- 
 peared in high good-humour, and drank their fair fill 
 of claret before the punch apparatus was placed on 
 the table. This done, Vokes desired the servant not 
 again to disturb him till he rang the bell. 
 
 Well knowing the habits of the chief magistrate, I 
 saw that something was coming. 
 
 " Mr. D ," said he, addressing his senior guest, 
 
 " you have now my permission — nay, I may add, my 
 request — to tell your son and my son-in-law here of 
 the dreadful occurrence which has taken place in your 
 family." 
 
 The worthy merchant did so, in the fairest manner. 
 
 During the recital George D appeared more 
 
 agitated than I should have expected. He evidently 
 was dreadfully shocked, and seemed to bear a true 
 affection, more than an ordinary affection, for the poor 
 girl, and as his father concluded he violently ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 t{ I am sure she is not guilty. HI stake my life she 
 is not," 
 
 " Can you then point to any other person as likely 
 to have committed these robberies ?" asked Vokes. 
 
 " Me ? me? certainly not. What should I know 
 about it ?" 
 
 Oh, nothing, nothing ; only you are wrong thus to 
 acquit Mary without proof." 
 
 " But I have proof. Her established good character, 
 the manner in which she has always proved her worth 
 and respectability — " 
 
TRIED AFFECTION. 
 
 207 
 
 " Are strong, I allow ; but in face of her own ad- 
 mission, and the evidence against her, will avail her 
 but little ; she will be convicted." 
 
 " Oh, don't say so." 
 
 " Unless, indeed, you can give us any clue to the 
 real thief." 
 
 Poor George seemed dreadfully agitated. He was 
 evidently fond of the unhappy girl. He suddenly 
 asked — 
 
 " Is there no way of getting her off; can you not 
 aid her to escape ; my father shall pay all expenses. 
 But to convict poor Mary would for ever stain the 
 character of our family." 
 
 " I can't see that, George," chimed in his father. 
 
 "Nor I," said Yokes; "but let us change the 
 subject. I hear you lost at the late races V 
 
 The young man, seemingly thinking of something 
 else, merely uttered, " Did I V 
 
 The father appeared astounded, for he had ever con- 
 sidered George to be far too rigid in his moral prin- 
 ciples thus to have gambled on the turf. 
 
 " You did," went on Yokes ; " Betsy, at Goggins, 
 gave the pound note you left for Captain D ." 
 
 The detected sportsman was now all attention ; his 
 agitation was really frightful. 
 
 "Ah, you seem surprised at my knowledge. I'll 
 tell you more. You bought some cigars at the same 
 time, and paid for them with this half-crown, a half- 
 crown strongly marked," added Yokes, as he partly 
 produced it, but carefully shrouded it with his hand. 
 
 " What's that you say V 9 said L. D— — . 
 
208 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 "Nothing, nothing at all. But see, your son is not 
 very well. He has probably over-excited hinjsel£ I'll 
 take him into my dressing-room — administer some re- 
 storative essence, and he'll soon be well. Nay, you must 
 not come, you will only do harm ; see, he waves yon off. 
 Come, George, you'll be better presently ; come along," 
 and he led the poor sufferer off. 
 
 I need scarcely tell you that during the absence of 
 
 his son and his friend L. D spoke but little. He 
 
 adored his son, and thus to see him strangely attacked 
 completely paralysed the old man. Five minutes 
 elapsed — ten minutes elapsed — and the anxious parent 
 would fain have sought his child ; but I gently detained 
 him. 
 
 In about twenty minutes Voke3 again appeared, 
 followed by George ; who, though still pale, seemed 
 to have recovered his strength, and in reply to his 
 near relative's inquiries, assured him that " it was 
 nothing. It had now quite passed away." 
 
 For about five minutes a gloom — a painful silence 
 — hung over us all. This was abruptly broken by 
 Vokes. 
 
 " George and I have discovered the pilferer, Mr. 
 
 D , and I will be guarantee that you are never so 
 
 robbed again." 
 
 " Was it Mary Toovey V 
 
 "Decidedly not!" 
 
 " Who was it, then T 
 
 " That you will never know. It is sufficient to say 
 he has been punished and you are safe for the future." 
 "But why, then, did the girl admit it ?" 
 " She best knows." 
 
TRIED AFFECTION. 
 
 209 
 
 "I shall closely cross-question her when I go home." 
 
 "Then, indeed, you will not, for she is now seveial 
 mile3 on her way to Dublin, where, well knowing her 
 innocence, I have sent her to live with a sister of mine. 
 You will see her no more F 
 
 " This is very mysterious f* 
 
 " And so let it remain ; make any fuss about it, 
 and the punishment of your garrulity will fall heavily 
 on you. Let me beseech you never again to allude to 
 it ; make what excuse you like for Mary's absence, but 
 never hint at your first unjust suspicions." 
 
 " Unjust !" 
 
 " By heaven, they were ! Harry, pass the hot water ; 
 we'll never allude to this subject again.' 7 
 
 If L. D. did not read the case aright, he was indeed 
 a happy man. 
 
 L. D. has been gathered to his fathers. His son 
 George, who has settled in Dublin, married twelve 
 months after his death a certain Mary Toovey — a girl 
 who, I believe, would willingly have given her life for 
 him. 
 
210 
 
 THE 
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 
 
 Vokes was seated in his office in Limerick, surrounded 
 by policemen and clamorous applicants for justice, 
 giving his orders and receiving reports, when a most 
 respectable female drove up on an outside car, and 
 requested to speak privately to the " Major." In a 
 few minutes the room was cleared, and the lady shown 
 in. After a short hesitation, in some trepidation, she 
 thus began — 
 
 " My name is " 
 
 * I know it — Mary Malone, of the small farm near 
 Patrick's WcJL" 
 
 " The same. I was not aware that you knew me ; 
 but oh, Major, I've brought you in bad news that you 
 don't know. Sure my husband, Thady Malone — he's 
 gone off and deserted me. He went last night." 
 
 " Not so ; he went on Monday last Never tell me 
 a lie." 
 
 "Ah, thin, Major," cried the wretched woman — 
 " ah, thin, it's myself that am so upset that I scarcely 
 recollect the day." 
 
 " That's odd ; for you wrote a note on Tuesday to 
 
, THE SIYST£BIOL"S DISAPPEAEAXC'i'. 211 
 
 £pu« J ° hnst0n ' the wheelwright, announcin- the 
 fact, and sent it by Paddy Elm." 
 
 "The Lord be good to us!" almost screamed the 
 -happy female . « YouWeverjthing 
 
 b^wt n ° te y ° U £aid you did uot ex P^t Km 
 
 Dae*. Why did you think so?" 
 
 makG . U ? ° f " C ° mm0n En S Iish term, poor 
 M«y was struck all of a heap, and she vainly t ied to 
 look calm; but being a strong-minded woman and 
 somewhat annoyed at the system of espionage ese ' 
 c-d on her movements, she now recovered he! spirl 
 
 "Well, now, Ml tell you-of course it's between 
 ouseive S - ]fc cuts me up to confess it, but as you insS 
 on it faith FlI tell the truth. I suspect he'has 
 off with a hussey of a soldier's wife, whose husband is 
 quartered m the Castle Barracks " 
 
 "Indeed! What is her name? We'll have her 
 arrested." ner 
 
 y^J^'f* UOt ^at exactly knows it- 
 
 tho Ug h I think he called her 'Ann.' As to following 
 her, sn- that's out of the question, for they went off in 
 a ship the very next day to America " 
 
 , 3 -l" l Ty /°°\ ft ' ienc5 ' y ° U mLstake - No * a vessel U 
 sailed from this port to the United States for ten 
 
 kI ° h ;, t,li u I ■ be SUre - am '' * 1 h "P e I *ay be - 
 oW "ol > f 1 ^' 1 l0Ved Thady » * 
 
 me 01 take charge of the farm." 
 
 14—2 
 
212 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE 3IAG JSTRATE. 
 
 " Wouldn't William Johnston do as much for you T 
 
 Mary Malone turned scarlet, but ere she had time to 
 reply, Vokes again spoke. 
 
 " Was not your husband a great drunkard T 
 
 " He was, your honour." 
 
 " He sometimes got insensibly drunk J" 
 
 " He did that same ; but I loved him for all that." 
 
 " Did you ever quarrel ?" 
 
 " Oh, thin, why would we quarrel ?" 
 
 " Well, I only asked you because I had hoped he 
 might have left you in a fit of passion. 
 
 "Ah, thin, perhaps it was so. We did sometimes 
 have bits of difference." 
 
 "He accused you of preferring some one else?" 
 
 " Faith he did ; but a bigger lump of a lie, by 
 
 Then suddenly lowering her tone, " It was all a mis- 
 take, for I loved Thady dearly." 
 
 " I thought he sometimes beat you ?" 
 
 " Well, he might ; perhaps I deserved it. But I'll 
 forgive him all if he'd only come back to me." 
 
 " You asked to see me ; you now say you do not 
 wish me to pursue him. What, then, do you want r 
 
 " Oh, thin, Major, sure I wanted you to come out 
 and just look in on me, and show the neighbours by 
 kindness that I bear a good character. For, sure, 
 there are some of them husseys who go tlie lengths to 
 say that I'm glad that Thady's dead." 
 
 "Dead?" 
 
 " No, I mean gone way. By dad, I'd pitch the 
 and the Johnstons and all the world over Trow Hil 
 to see my Thady return. Ah, now thin, Major, wii 
 ve come V 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 
 
 213 
 
 u I will. Remain you at home to-morrow, and I'll be 
 with you iu the course of the day, Mrs. Mai one. 
 We'll settle their gossip." 
 
 il Oh, thin, may heaven be gracious to ye ; ye are 
 always kind. Sure, I brought in a small keg of butter 
 of my own churning." 
 
 " I never take presents of any kind. So, now, away ; 
 I'll be with you to-morrow and away went the grass 
 widow, apparently much pleased with the result of her 
 visit. 
 
 No sooner was the distressed lady gone, than Michy, 
 one of Yokes's best aids — if a rascally informer who 
 had hung his own brother on his fraternal evidence, and 
 betrayed a gang of some twenty ruffians, could be so 
 designated — was called in to counsel. My little friend, 
 who was Protsean in the forms he assumed, was dressed 
 as a simple country boy; he had already been some time 
 with Yokes before I entered, and had evidently given 
 him important information. 
 
 Now there are stern moralists who may condemn this 
 mode of obtaining evidence — this horrible way of arriving 
 at facts through the means of a wretch, often unworthy 
 of belief. Perhaps so to assist the efforts of any other man 
 than my relative would have been dangerous, but the 
 deep search he ever carried out to arrive at the real 
 truth, the acuteness of his cross-examination, the stem 
 certainty that if deceived he would at once withdraw 
 his protection from the deluding party, which in effect 
 would be little less than delivering him up to be 
 punished by the friends of those whom he had betrayed, 
 kept these otherwise dangerous emissaries in the most 
 wholesome check. While detained by Yokes for pur- 
 
214 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 poses of justice they were protected, clothe!, and fed, 
 and if after a time they could be spared, they were 
 sent off to America with a good round sum in their 
 pockets. If they misbehaved, or indulged in false- 
 hood, lynch-law would soon be executed on them. 
 No wonder, then, that their evidence, under wholesome 
 examination, might prove useful. 
 
 Of all those who had given evidence for the Crown, 
 Mickey was the only one retained as a necessary spy, 
 or, as we should more politely call it in the present 
 day, a detective. He was far too well trained and 
 taught to attempt any deception. Whatever he said 
 might be relied upon. 
 
 " And so, Mickey, you can recollect the words that 
 were posted up on the smithy beyond Eathbeale, last 
 Saturday night F* 
 
 " I can," replied the other, looking at me most sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 " It's only my relative — go on." 
 
 " Well, sir, I gave a shilling to Paddy Rooney to 
 drive his car for him, and by the same token he was 
 so drunk he couldn't drive it himself ; so I bought 
 two noggins of whisky, and I guv him one, yere 
 honour ; and then I laid him down, and having put 
 on his top coat — for it was raining awfully — and having 
 put on his Jersey hat, I lays him in the car, and made 
 a pillow of sods of turf for his head — for, faix ! he 
 seemed uncommon inclined to choke — and away I 
 druv. On the way, who should I overtake but Bill 
 Brophy, of Ballymondus." 
 
 " ' God save ye !' says he. ' Sure you'll give me a 
 lift, Paddy Booney, like an honest boy ]' 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 215 
 
 u 6 1 will,' says I, stopping the car. 
 
 " ' Fait f says lie, 'you ain't Paddy Rooney.' And 
 he was a going to turn away. 
 
 " 1 Stay, Bill/ says I. ' Ain't I all the same ? Sure 
 there's Pat Rooney drunk in the car, and ain't I 
 driving him home ? So jump up.' And with that 
 up he jumps. 
 
 " ' Bill Brophy,' says I, ' what makes you away so 
 far from your county — and where are you going V 
 
 " ' Faith, then,' says he, ' the climate's become ra- 
 ther warm down there, ever since somebody houghed 
 the Englishman's cattle. So I came down here, and 
 I'm going to meet some of the lads at the smithy be- 
 yant, if your blood pony — bad luck to him — will only 
 draw us there.' 
 
 " ( Oh then, there's no fear of that.' 
 
 I now interrupted Yokes, and as I had come pur- 
 posely to fetch him, urged him to hasten his prolix 
 informant. 
 
 " It wouldn't do," whispered he, " if I didn't let 
 him tell his tale his own way. I'd never get at the 
 truth ;" and then, turning to the informer, he merely 
 said, " Go on." 
 
 " Well, your honour, I soon pumped out of Bill — 
 whose lips are like sieves, through which everything 
 runs — that a party were about to meet to form some 
 plans ; but what they were he was not quite sure. 
 
 " ' Nabocklish !' says he, ' you are a true boy, I be- 
 lieve, since you know me and my father, though I 
 don't recollect you ; and if there's a loose share in the 
 fun, you shall have it.' 
 
 " ' Thank ye,' says I. 
 
216 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " "Well, we came to the smithy, and there there was 
 a large party, with lots of potheen. But as I see'd 
 Ryan among them, who might recognise me, I wouldn't 
 go in, but sat outside. 
 
 " Presently I heard them singing and talking, and 
 the smoke of tobaccy came out like the smelling of a 
 rose ; but then when I sniffed this, and the scent of 
 the raal potheen, it was as much as I could do to 
 resist. But I had promised to wait for Brophy, so I 
 thought it safest to remain quiet. In the song they 
 sung they mentioned all the affairs they had been in ; 
 and John Leary boasted 'twas he as settled Fitzroy. 
 But they all bragged of so many deeds of the kind, I 
 didn't believe them." 
 
 " But the song — was it funny ?" 
 
 u Yery ; it was all about murdering the gentry, and 
 getting the land to themselves ; and they always wound 
 up with some chorus, saying how they'd serve your 
 honour." 
 
 " Do you recollect ? You said just now you did." 
 « I do." 
 
 " Repeat it, then." 
 
 "Well, Major, I'm not a good singer; but the end 
 of each verse ran thus : — 
 
 There's Hoskins is going, and Going is gone, 
 
 George Lake and Tom Yokes are the next to come on. 
 
 What do you think of that, Major?" 
 
 " Oh, if that's all you learnt, it was scarcely worth 
 the trip. Lines — almost the same — were posted on the 
 inn door where I slept at Kilmellock, and even on the 
 Chapel door, a month ago." 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, 
 
 217 
 
 6£ Ah, but I didn't tell you how I wormed out about 
 Mrs. Malone from Bill Brophy." 
 
 " And you are sure J ohnston knows nothing of it P 
 
 " Quite ; he's a real respectable man, and don't caro 
 a trawneen for the woman." 
 
 W Well, be off; I'll see to all this." 
 
 M But Brophy, your honour P 
 
 c< I'll have him taken within an hour, as you happen 
 to fear him ; but believe me, he'll never suspect you 
 of giving evidence. So now, go out the back way ; 
 I'm going with my friend for an evening's fishing on 
 the falls of Doonas." And away we went. 
 
 The next day Yokes, attended by an uncouth ser- 
 vant in livery, drove down to Mrs. Malone's. She re- 
 ceived him with kindness, and warmly expressed her 
 gratitude. She placed before him a plenteous luncheon, 
 of which the good magistrate largely partook. His 
 horse had been put up, and the servant now amused 
 himself by strolling through the farm-yard, which 
 closely adjoined the house. He seemed to saunter 
 about carelessly ; but any one who had closely watched 
 his eyes would have seen them wander around with 
 piercing intelligence. 
 
 Yokes, on his part, was no less busy. What these 
 close, though unperceived investigations meant, we 
 shall see hereafter. Nothing could exceed the civility 
 of the functionary towards his entertainer, and he took 
 down copious notes from her statement relative to the 
 sudden disappearance of her husband. He shortly, 
 however, took leave of Mrs. Malone, who promised to 
 be in Limerick on the following day, to have her state- 
 ment made out in writing and placed before the bench 
 
218 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 of magistrates, for the purpose of recovering, if possible, 
 her errant partner. 
 
 Yokes and his servant, who was no less a personage 
 than Mickey, drove back to Limerick, but few words 
 passed between them. 
 
 " I think, Mickey, you are right. But if so, where 
 is the corpse 1 " 
 
 " I can't say, but I think I know. The dunghill has 
 been opened and closed, but not enough to let in a 
 body ; it's that puzzles me. There's something too, I 
 think, down the half-dry well. I'm sure there's some- 
 thing quite white at the bottom of it. But I'll go 
 out again if you wish it, Major 1 " 
 
 " No — it is enough. Did you observe, as I did, that 
 the copper has been lit and the inside scoured since V- 
 
 "I did; but " 
 
 " Never mind — that's enough. Did you pick up 
 anything 1 " 
 
 " I did ; this knife. It was hid behind the pig- 
 stye." 
 
 "Ah, it has been recently sharpened and used. You 
 say that Bill saw a great smoke, and that there was a 
 bad smell came from the malt-house." 
 
 " That's the truth." 
 
 " Well, then, be ready to march with Serjeant 
 Reedy at daybreak, and get beyond Malone's cottage 
 without being seen, and mind the instant the woman 
 leaves get into the premises, and search every part. 
 I'll give directions to the Serjeant. So now jump off. 
 Don't be seen with me going into town. I think we 
 are on the right scent." 
 
 Some hours afterwards I went with Yokes to the 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 
 
 219 
 
 theatre, where, to my great amusement, Yokes WHS 
 received with three groans by the people in the gallery, 
 while I was loudly cheered. I looked at my friend, 
 who laughed heartily and Lowed to them, and when I 
 timidly asked — 1 wonder why they cheer me. Sure 
 it's because you are a stranger and in uniform. They'd 
 cheer a certain old gentleman himself if he wore gold 
 epaulettes. A voice, however, at this instant called on 
 "Dirty Betty Carmody" (a most respectable Serjeant in 
 the militia, and the leader in the orchestra) to play 
 up ! and having compelled him by vociferation to 
 sound Garry o wen, they began screeching, hallooing, 
 and beating time, till the wretched old theatre nearly 
 tumbled about our ears. An Irish theatre some thirty 
 years ago was, indeed, a strange arena, over which 
 the " gods " themselves most arbitrarily presided. 
 A revenir. 
 
 Next day, soon after noon, the interesting Dido, so 
 cruelly deserted, drove up to the police-office, and for 
 a few moments Yokes treated her in a most courteous 
 manner. 
 
 Presently a message was brought in, and his whole 
 manner changed. 
 
 " Send in Smith and Macgrath." The altered tone 
 in which the magistrate spoke, appeared to surprise 
 Mrs. Malone. 
 
 They entered. u Arrest that woman !" 
 
 " Me ? me, Major i What do you mean {" 
 
 " I arrest you as the murderess of Thady Malone, 
 your late husband." 
 
 " What !" screamed the astonished female ; " you 
 cannot mean it. It is impossible. I loved him 
 
220 RECOLLECTIONS OF AS IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 dearly, and I am as innocent as you are ; I swear 
 by—" 
 
 u Don't perjure yourself. I've proofs." 
 
 " That's out of the question," cried the prisoner, 
 brightening up, for she had been deadly pale and 
 awfully agitated, on the first accusation being made. 
 This, however, was no proof against her. Any other 
 woman would have been equally taken aback at such a 
 dreadful — such an unlooked-for — accusation. " Sure 
 he's gone, and far away by this time." 
 
 " You murdered him, Mary Malone." 
 
 " Where is your proof]" 
 
 u Bring in your parcel, Sergeant Reedy," who im- 
 mediately opened it, and out rolled, to the horror of 
 all around, a human head. It was bleached, and 
 looked more like the head of a calf than of a human 
 being. 
 
 The woman could not repress a scream. 
 
 " Is that your late husband's head ?" 
 
 u I don't know — no — no. Tm sure it is not." 
 
 " Sergeant, you knew Thady Malone ; is that him P 
 
 " It is, sir ; I will swear to it." 
 
 " Where did you find it P 
 
 " In the dunghill, in his farm-yard, close to the 
 house. I had two witnesses with me." 
 
 The wretched culprit sank in a chair ; then starting 
 up, she exclaimed, " But why say I had art or part in 
 it ? may not some one else have put it there ?" and 
 she looked round triumphantly. 
 
 " Send the next constable in ;" he bore a basket. 
 
 u Sure it's an arm and a leg I found in the old well, 
 though how it came so white I can't telh" 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 
 
 221 
 
 " Do you recollect Bill Brophy bringing your hus- 
 band home on Monday afternoon very drunk, and 
 that you plied him with liquor ]" 
 
 The murderess — for by this time it was tolerably 
 apparent to all that she was so — shuddered. 
 
 " Faith, then," said Yokes, " I'm about to commit 
 you to gaol for the murder of your husband, and to 
 show you that I don't wish to entrap you, although it's 
 unusual, I'll tell you all I know. I shall probably 
 have more before your trial, but in the meantime I tell 
 you so much, in order that you may make a good 
 defence if you can, and I only hope, Mrs. Malone, that 
 as I've knowu you long, you may escape the dreadful 
 doom, which, if guilty, you will not only deserve but 
 suffer." 
 
 "I have reason to believe that, being in love with 
 another man, although that man rejected your advances 
 you determined on getting rid of your husband." 
 
 " Ah ! then, that's not true." 
 
 " Silence and listen, or I'll say no more. On Monday 
 evening last Bill Brophy of Ballymeadows brought 
 Malone home to the cottage in a state of intoxication ; 
 you plied him, as I have already told you, with liquor 
 till he was senseless ; Brophy then left the house, but 
 not the neighbourhood. He watched through a crevice 
 in the door." 
 
 The prisoner sighed deeply. 
 
 "Ko sooner did you think yourself \mseen, than, 
 taking out a knife you had previously sharpened, and 
 which 1 have here, you cut poor Thady's throat, taking 
 care to catch the blood as far as possible in a flat dining 
 dish. This done — the man destroyed— you went into 
 
222 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 the washing-linney,* and here you lighted the copper 
 fire — the boiler had evidently been prepared, for it wa* 
 filled with water and the fuel ready. You then returned 
 to the kitchen, and with the hatchet — which you after- 
 wards buried, and the knife I have got— cut up the poor 
 fellow, and theu boiled him piecemeal ; look at the 
 head and those limbs, and you will see that I am right." 
 
 A groan of horror went round ; all appeared shocked 
 except the prisoner, who maintained her calm de- 
 meanour. 
 
 * At this dreadful work you remained till long past 
 daylight, when Brophy went away." 
 
 " Brophy's a perjured villain P cried Mrs. Malone. 
 
 " I remarked myself the newly cleaned copper ; there 
 are some four drops of blood near the fireplace, and I 
 pocketed two buttons, torn from the poor man's coat, 
 while you left the room. In the mean time an active 
 agent looked over the premises and remarked that the 
 dunghill had lately been disturbed. He also found the 
 knife and other trifles he will produce at the trial Ih a 
 word, Mrs. Malone, you murdered your husband whose 
 head now lies before you, and boiled his mutilated 
 remains. Don't deny it, or you'll offend heaven ; don't 
 admit it, or it will serve to convict you at the assizes. 
 So take her away, serjeant, and may heaven have more 
 mercy on her than she had on my ouce honest tenant 
 Thady Malone." 
 
 Proved and convicted on the very clearest evidence, 
 Mrs. Malone was hanged shortly after the following 
 assizes. 
 
 * Linney is generally applied in Ireland to any shed attached i& 
 the dwelling-house. 
 
223 
 
 THE DEAD CAPTURE. 
 
 But what shall I say to them r asked his footman 
 83 S the hall-" what shall I say i» 
 
 bay I m not visible.? ' 
 "But why shall I say you are not visible J» 
 Votes, who was bothered by thus being cross-ques 
 baaed and annoyed by the pertinacity of !he s riot 
 
 !,« J i ^ j springing into his saddle 
 
 be dashed down George- street, and was far on his 
 journey before the rest of the family were stirring 
 
 the bTvH / !rT er ' 10 ^ • We fiom 
 
 ^ breakfast table, the family sat down to that meal 
 
 without making any inquiry, and the business of the 
 day went on as usual. 
 
 At about noon, a pea3an t, who it afterwards appeared 
 
224 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 came from the county of Clare, called, and asked to see 
 u the master." 
 
 " It is impossible." 
 
 " Why ? Sure I want to have spache of his ho- 
 nour r 
 
 " Well, then, I tell you you can't." 
 " And why not I persisted the other. 
 " He's OT 
 
 * Oh, then, never mind that Faith, I'm sure if he's 
 alive he'd see me. Haven t I come all the way from 
 Cratloe Wood — a good ten miles — and faith, I'm not 
 to be sent back without setting eyes upon him." 
 
 u I tell you you can't see him." 
 
 " Sure I'm Thady Watson ; he knows me well." 
 
 " If you were his Holiness the Pope, you couldn't 
 see him." 
 
 " Sure I must. Now let me only have spache of 
 him for a bit. In holy truth, then, I wont go away 
 till I have " 
 
 " Once for all, be off, for I tell you the thing's im- 
 possible !" 
 
 " Impossible ! And why 1" 
 
 The servant was a bit of a wag. He was angiy and 
 annoyed with the continuous pleading of the fellow. 
 Besides which, if the truth must be told, he wanted to 
 get back to the kitchen, where his warm, comfortable 
 dinner stood cooling, and so determined at once to 
 come to a conclusion. He quietly replied — 
 
 " The reason is very clear — he's dead l" And slam- 
 ming the door to in the astonished peasant's face, he 
 burst out laughing, and ran downstairs. 
 
 The surprised countryman stood silent on the steps 
 
THE DEAD CAPTURE. 225 
 
 Of the entrance, and with the usual cunning of a low 
 Irishman, began to canvass in his own mind the pro- 
 bability of the news he had just heard being true or 
 otherwise; and then, with a complacent grunt— uttered 
 as if a good thought had struck him-he ran across the 
 street, and hence took a full survey of the house. Here 
 he saw every blind down (the morning sun resting on 
 the windows), and this bore out the correctness of the 
 footman's statement-a statement which was still more 
 fully confirmed when he saw two policemen turned 
 away from the door; and, last of all, Mr. Denmead, 
 the undertaker (who happened to have been sent for 
 by Mrs. Vokes-he being a carpenter-to make some 
 trifling repairs) enter the house. 
 
 With a look of mystic importance and delight, the 
 Clare-man went off and fetched his horse and car, and 
 without waiting to transact the business he had come 
 about, set off in haste to announce the joyful ncwa 
 throughout a county which had long dreaded the power 
 of the terrible Major. 
 
 When the footman, some half an hour later, related 
 to his fellow-servants the witty answer he had given 
 he was astonished to find they did not share the joke • 
 far from it, they loudly blamed him, and foretold the 
 serious scrape he had got himself into. John be^an 
 to feel uncomfortable; but as it was now too late* to 
 undo his folly, he wisely made the best of it, and went 
 on cleaning his master's plate. 
 
 Vokes in the meantime carried out the measures 
 he came over to propose, and then dined at the house 
 of a friend. It was dark when he started to return- 
 but to this he did not object, as he was by no means 
 15 
 
226 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 anxious to be recognised ; for the same reason he 
 declined to be attended. The only precaution lie took 
 was slightly to vary the route he had followed in the 
 morning. 
 
 As he got a few miles out of Ennis, he beheld several 
 large bonfires lighted on the hills, and he almost began 
 to regret that he had left Limerick, as these illumina- 
 tions were always used as signals for outbreak, or to 
 telegraph some important new3. 
 
 Not far from the wood of Cratloe one of these fires 
 blazed, and although it was somewhat hazardous to do 
 so, our bold magistrate determined on visiting the 
 spot and learning the origin of it. So he jumped off 
 his horse, and concealing the pistol which he carried 
 in the holster that he now cast from him, he covered 
 his chin with his muffler, put the hat straight on his 
 head, which he usually wore jauntily on one side, and 
 changing his appearance and accent as far as possible, 
 rode slowly up the ascent, whistling the " British 
 Grenadiers." 
 
 On his arrival he found an enormous fire, around 
 which fifty or sixty people were assembled, smoking, 
 ' drinking, and chatting. 
 
 " Good evening to you, my friends," cried the Major, 
 assuming to his own satisfaction the pronunciation and 
 manner of an Englishman. "How do you do, my 
 friends I" 
 
 The surprised peasantry started up, but seeing a 
 single horseman, they again resumed their places, the 
 neighbouring blacksmith calling out, " Eaith, what are 
 ye after 1 What do you want !" 
 
 " Oh, nothing— nothing at all ! I only rode here to 
 
THE DEAD CAPTUKE. 
 
 227 
 
 say I had lost my way in this confounded country, and 
 wished to ask you which way I should go ?" 
 " And where are you going ?" 
 
 "To the city of Limerick. I think you call it 
 Garryowen in Irish." 
 
 The people burst out laughing at this specimen of a 
 Cockney, and the word omadthawn (idiot) might be 
 heard issuing out of more than one mouth, as they ex- 
 changed observations in Irish. 
 
 " Thin it's yer way ye're asking 1" 
 
 " Well, that's all, I believe. I really should like to 
 find it. I'd give a shilling to any fine fellow who 
 would tell me the way I should go ?" 
 
 This new Cockney ism (as the Irish people call it) 
 produced a fresh laugh, and seeing that the man was 
 perfectly innocent, and a stranger, they asked the fool 
 to partake of some of their cheer. He did so, and 
 seemingly allowed the liquor to open his mouth, for 
 now on his side he began to ask questions. 
 
 " Tell me, my very excellent friends, why have you 
 lit up this very nice fire on the top of this bleak 
 mountain V 
 
 u It's to convey the news." 
 
 " What news ?" 
 
 " Don't you know it i Faith, thin, ye're the only 
 man in Clare that don't. Sure, Tom Yokes the pro- 
 secutor's dead." 
 
 Vokes could not conceal a start. 
 
 " You may well be surprised, and so were we when 
 we heard it, for he was alive and well yesterday. 
 Here's his health." 
 
 The magistrate mentally joined in the toast. 
 
 15—2 
 
228 KEC0LLECTI0XS OF AN" IMSII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 "And a speedy passage to the bottomless pit," 
 bellowed the farrier, with a savage burst of delight. 
 Vokes did not join in this. 
 
 u Sure, he hanged my brother for shooting an ex- 
 ciseman." 
 
 * And didn't he transport my cousin Pat for a simple 
 burglary V 
 
 " Oh, he was a savage, a raal right down savage. 
 Bad luck to him ¥* chimed in a third. 
 
 "And haven't I been out these nine months on 
 account of the burning of ould Macnaulty and his 
 daughter. Haven't I been hunted up and down the 
 county like a wild beast, and after all I was not the 
 principal — I only strangled the ould fellow to prevent 
 his telling. Ye all know it was Fred Dwyer as stabbed 
 the girl, and robbed her, and fired the house ; and there 
 now for ye, he's down comfortable like, at his uncle's, 
 beyant Ennistown, and aren't I here in terror of my 
 life ? Bedad, I'd like to stick a knife in his heart, the 
 blackguard, before they bury him." 
 
 "Ah, there, Teddy Lynch, hould your tongue; you 
 talk too much," said a female of the party. 
 
 "You're right, Biddy agrath. He'll talk himself 
 into a hempen collar, some day, if he don't look 
 sharp." 
 
 Vokes had now learnt all. The man of all others 
 he wished to seize, stood within three paces of him ; 
 the fellow who had so long eluded his pursuit was now 
 within his grasp. 
 
 Not liking the turn the conversation had taken, the 
 C. M. P. gave notice of his approaching departure, not 
 in a hurried manner, but in a cool, slow way, drawling 
 
THE DEAD CAPTURE. 
 
 229 
 
 out his words to the great amusement of his hearers, 
 who looked upon the Londoner's accent as a subject of' 
 fair game, without even for an instant suspecting that 
 their conversation, which had been carried on in pure 
 Irish, could even have been guessed at by the Cockney 
 before them. 
 
 Several persons now offered their directions relative 
 to the best road for the stranger to follow, while Teddy 
 Lynch, more eager than any other, doubtlessly desiring 
 to earn the promised shilling, pressed forward and 
 proffered his advice, declaring he knew every yard of 
 the country. 
 
 Yokes at once addressed him. " My good fellow, 
 you are pleased to say you know this wild country 
 well. Now I'm all alone and unarmed, and I never 
 was here before, and I don't much like travelling in 
 strange parts, you see, after dark; so what will you take 
 to come and guide me ?" 
 
 " Me— is it me f 
 
 " Go with him," shouted two or three, " for the fun 
 of it." 
 
 " If you'll come, I'll give you a pound-note." 
 
 " Tare a nouns, it's a good offer ; but you'll let me off 
 as soon as we get to Banrathy Bridge, for I have reasons 
 for not wishing to enter any town just now." 
 
 " It's a bargain, my good friend," replied the magis- 
 trate, and away they went, the peasant walking 
 beside the Major's horse. In this manner they pro- 
 ceeded, little conversation being exchanged, till they 
 arrived at Banrathy Bridge, when Lynch turning 
 round, declared that he had fulfilled his task, and 
 demanded the reward. 
 
230 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 "And you shall have it," roared Vokes as he jumped 
 off his horse — "you shall have it," cried he, seizing 
 the surprised peasant by the collar. " Attempt to 
 escape, and your brains shall be scattered over this 
 bridge," added he, drawing out his pistol and presenting 
 it at the fellow's head. "Hey, police! police! Come 
 here quickly. Nay, it's no use struggling, Tim Lynch, 
 for I am Tom Vokes." 
 
 The murderer looked at him, and seemed at a glance 
 to read the truth of his assertion. His altered manner 
 and a few words of Irish he had mingled in his address 
 too surely told the assassin that he was in the hands of 
 his most dreaded enemy. He no longer struggled. He 
 submitted to his fate. The dead had, as- he believed, 
 come to life in order to seize him — how then could 
 he struggle ! Terror-struck and paralysed, he allowed 
 his captor to drag him over the bridge, at the foot of 
 which stood a small police barrack. Here the force, 
 aroused by the calls of their superior, were just hur- 
 rying from their beds, when Vokes entered, dragging 
 in his formidable prisoner. He only remained to see 
 the fellow handcuffed and confined. He wrote a short 
 note to the nearest magistrate, who lived within a few 
 yards. Then mounting his horse, he galloped cheer- 
 fully off, to trace the origin of the report which had 
 seemingly removed him from this w T orld. 
 
 After some trouble he came at the real truth, and 
 in consideration of the important capture to which it 
 had unwittingly led, the footman was forgiven. 
 
 Tim Lynch was hanged at the next assizes held at 
 Ennis, to the great joy and comparative security of the 
 whole county of Clare. 
 
231 
 
 A SPORTING- ADVENTURE. 
 
 Mr, L was one of the most active and zealous 
 magistrates in the county of Limerick. He came for- 
 ward on every occasion, and did his utmost to quell 
 the disturbances which in 1821 convulsed the district, 
 and were ; the precursors of those outrages which for 
 many years subsequently disgraced the South of Ire- 
 land. Ever ready to afford his services, and equally 
 prepared when called upon to risk his life, the worthy 
 magistrate led far from a comfortable or a peaceable 
 existence. On one occasion, about the time I speak 
 o£ he was solicited to attend with some yeomanry 
 and a large body of regulars the fair at Bathkeale. 
 Here the ordinary festivities took place — that is to 
 say, after the usual horse -coping and bargaining, the 
 usual dancing took place, and when this was done, the 
 usual drinking was indulged in, crowned, as it always 
 was, by the most fearful riots between opposing factions, 
 in the course of which several persons were killed, in 
 spite of all the exertions made to keep those savage 
 antagonists (who had probably met here by mutual 
 agreement " to fight it out") quiet and orderly. The 
 unhappy result of the conflict, and the interference of 
 the troops, was that the soldiery in turn (compelled to 
 
232 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN JRISU POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 do so in their own defence) fired on the people, and so 
 ended the affair. The latter quickly quitted the field, 
 leaving the place in quiet possession of the powers of 
 the law. 
 
 Three or four dead bodies lay upon the ground ; 
 gome of the military were wounded. The people 
 uttered wild threats in tones which reached the ears of 
 the exasperated troops. 
 
 The magistrate desired (at least so I have ever heard 
 it asserted) a grave to be dug on the spot, and into 
 this he threw the bodies of those men who had fallen 
 in fighting with the Kings troops. He then ordered 
 some quicklime to be thrown over them, and the hole 
 filled up. This was done, and shortly afterwards the 
 forces left Rathkeale and returned to their quarters. 
 
 Upon what grounds they based their belief, I know 
 not ; but certain it is, that ever afterwards the peasantry 
 boldly asserted that the men who had been shot were 
 buried alive ! that they had turned round in their last 
 resting-place, and that they might have been recovered 
 had it not been for the operation of the quicklime ! 
 
 Such a wicked and false report having been indus- 
 triously spread, it can scarcely be wondered at that 
 
 Mr. L was held up as an object of horror, and his 
 
 life placed in hourly jeopardy. 
 
 The old man, however, passed away, and left a son 
 to represent him, one of the pleasantest and best 
 young men in the county, celebrated for his convivial 
 powers, his reckless daring, and his great superiority 
 in every athletic exercise : he was at once the best 
 rider, the best shot, the best runner, and the best 
 thrower of a sledge-hammer in the county of Limerick. 
 
A SPORTING ADVENTURE, 
 
 233 
 
 G. L was more than once fired at, but never 
 wounded. By his fleetness on some occasions, and his 
 great bodily strength on others, he had frequently 
 escaped from the hands of ruffians who sought to 
 injure -him. As we have stated before, George had 
 even been denounced in the songs of the people — his 
 death was foretold. But our stalwart friend laughed 
 alike at personal attacks and anonymous threats, and 
 continued his jovial and sporting career in spite of 
 the "bad boys" who, though disliking him, feared 
 to approach him. 
 
 One afternoon I was seated with Vokes, when our 
 friend rushed in. From his dress he had evidently 
 been out shooting ; and such proved to be the fact. 
 He had tried snipe -shooting in Cappagh Bog, and for 
 some time enjoyed good sport ; unfortunately, how- 
 ever, he had been induced, by thirst, to enter a cottage 
 and ask for a drink of water. This was cheerfully 
 accorded to him, and the potatoes just boiled for 
 their family meal freely offered by the two women, 
 who were alone in the cabin, to George with a friendly 
 invitation to partake of them. Fancying that he 
 would please them by accepting their proffered hos- 
 pitality, and well knowing that a refusal to eat under 
 an Irish roof is considered a decided slight in that 
 country, the sportsman freely swallowed one or two, 
 and in return gave them the birds he had just shot, 
 and a glass of whisky, which he drew from his leathern 
 pouch. 
 
 He now rose to quit ; but to his surprise he found 
 the door closely barred on the outside, and on turning 
 round, after several ineffectual^ efforts to break open 
 
234 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 the entrance, he discovered that during that time, at 
 least half a dozen peasants had entered at the back 
 way, and one of them was in the act of bearing off his 
 gun, which he had laid aside while eating. He sprang 
 at the man who had thus robbed him, and seized him 
 by the throat ; but the fellow at once passed the 
 weapon to a comrade, who made off with it. He 
 vainly endeavoured to struggle with the party, who, 
 having thus possessed themselves of the arm they 
 coveted, took to flight, and left him again alone with 
 the two women, who had not ceased to cry and lament 
 during the whole scene, which had not, however, occu- 
 pied five minutes. 
 
 " Och, thin, the Lord be merciful to us, Master 
 George — it's well it's no worse !" 
 
 " You know me then 1 " 
 
 " Troth, I do. My father was herd to your father 
 — God rest the old gentleman, though they tell wicked 
 stories of him ; and faix, I'm a thinking it was on that 
 account they spared your life. But take my advice, 
 yer honour ; don't come to the Bog again. They are now 
 pleased at getting your gun, and don't care to harm 
 ye. Sure, they mayn't always be so agreeable, and 
 you might get an ugly puck — not to say a death-stroke 
 — so don't come, Master George ; and, faith, if ye're 
 wise, ye won't say much about it." 
 
 Long ere the well-meaning women had done speaking 
 the young man had left the cottage, and now sought 
 Vokes for advice. 
 
 " Well, what do you wish me to do T asked the C. M. P. 
 
 " I want you to try and recover my gun." 
 
A SPORTING ADVENTURE. 
 
 235 
 
 " Do you know that if I took any steps to find out 
 and arrest these men, it might lead to bad results." 
 
 " Is the county then in such a dreadful state 1 " 
 
 "In truth it is," replied Yokes, who now quitted 
 the room, and was absent for about ten minutes. 
 
 " Your father-in-law is in a queer humour," chimed 
 in L . 
 
 "He is so," I replied, * but he is so strange in his ways 
 that I never question him. You have now told him your 
 tale. You had better say no more. He'll not forget it ; 
 and notwithstanding all he says, depend upon it he'll 
 try and recover your gun if an opportunity offers itself." 
 
 " I have no doubt you are right. I'll say no more 
 about it." 
 
 Presently Yokes came in, and having succeeded in 
 persuading our victimized friend to stay to dinner, he 
 branched off into all the light talk of the day, carefully 
 avoiding any allusion to George's loss. 
 
 About eight o'clock Sir R. F came in, a relative 
 
 of Yokes, and his medical adviser. F challenged 
 
 the magistrate to play at piquet, and they sat down 
 
 to that scientific game, while L and I amused 
 
 ourselves by chatting over our respective feats in the 
 hunting-field. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock when Yokes was called out 
 of the room. He seemed to expect the summons, which 
 could be nothiug very extraordinary, as he remained 
 to finish the game ere he arose to attend to the call. 
 
 He shortly returned, and walked straight up to 
 George. 
 
 " You would know your gun again V 
 
236 RECOLLECTIONS OF AX IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " Decidedly." 
 
 " You could swear to it V 9 
 i " I could." 
 
 Vokes went to the door and opened it Sergeant 
 Toomy entered ; he carried a fowling-piece in his 
 hand. L 's eyes actually danced with delight. 
 
 " Is that it?" 
 
 " It is. But how did you get it P 
 
 " That is my business. Give back the piece to the 
 police-sergeant. It will be returned to you after the 
 trial." 
 
 "What trial P 
 
 " The trial of the four men, aud their accomplices 
 the two women, in Cappagh Bog." 
 
 " Indeed ; but can you catch them P 
 
 The door opened, and four fine-looking peasants 
 entered and two women, in custody of a small party of 
 police. 
 
 "Are these the men who assaulted you, and took 
 your gun P 
 * They are." 
 
 " And these the women, who (unseen by you) sent 
 off a boy to fetch them P 
 
 " They are the women ; but I don't believe " 
 
 " Silence ! the crime of seizing arms, more especially 
 with force, from the person, is an offence of the most 
 serious nature. Desire Mr. Woodbourne to make out 
 a committal, and march them up to the county jaih 
 
 And now, F , let us finish the rubber of piquet 
 
 these fellows interrupted." • 
 
 The wonderfully quiet manner in which Vokes first 
 gleaned information, and then made use of it j the 
 
A SPORTING ADVENTURE. 
 
 237 
 
 calm and dispassionate mode in which he treated those 
 brought before him, the strange way in which he 
 seemed to possess a certain knowledge of everything 
 that was passing; had a powerful effect on all around 
 him. 
 
 On the evening in question, though highly gratified 
 in having recovered his lost treasure, I am certain that 
 our friend left the doorstep in George-street, convinced 
 that the peasantry were right when they said f< Tom 
 Yokes had dealings with " 
 
238 
 
 THE HANGMAN. 
 
 Although 1 had given a brother subaltern two days 1 
 duty in order to shirk the disagreeable sight of a 
 criminal being hanged, for to ray great annoyance — 
 though not to my surprise, it being an event of frequent 
 occurrence in Ireland — I found myself detailed for the 
 " execution party," or, to express it in less technical 
 terms, I was ordered out in charge of some twenty-five 
 dragoons, to be present at the execution of a culprit — 
 a degrading service to which the cavalry are continually 
 liable in the sister country, and as I said before, a 
 duty to which I so strenuously objected, that my 
 military chief allowed me to transfer it to a brother 
 officer — he bargaining that I should take his orderlies 
 for two days, and thus release him to the joys of the 
 hunting field. 
 
 But though I thus eschewed the horrors of seeing 
 a poor wretch put to death, I must admit that I had 
 a morbid desire to behold the victim ere he suffered, 
 and to examine the fearful apparatus which was to 
 put an end to his existence. 
 
 I therefore asked Vokes to take me into the new 
 gaol to see the condemned felon, to which, after a 
 
THE HANGMAN. 
 
 239 
 
 slight sneer at my inconsistency, he assented, and we 
 walked up together. 
 
 On our arrival we were shown into the cell where 
 the unhappy wretch sat awaiting the summons which 
 was to call him forth to expiate the crime he had 
 committed. 
 
 A couple of turnkeys were in attendance on the 
 man, who sat in seeming calmness on a stool, freely 
 conversing with the persons around him. He had con- 
 fessed his crime, and had probably been absolved by 
 his clergy, for he seemed in tolerably good spirits and 
 fully prepared to meet his fate. He spoke coolly about 
 the murder he had committed, and appeared more 
 anxious for his poor children than himself. He had 
 taken leave of his wife and family : he had, as he 
 considered, made his peace with Heaven, and he now 
 resignedly awaited the last struggle which was to 
 wrench him from life to eternity. He was a tall 
 athletic young man, some five-and-twenty years of 
 age, dressed from head to foot in white flannel, and 
 perfectly ready to converse about himself, but equally 
 determined not to betray the companions of his 
 crime, nor the fearful links which probably bound him 
 to carry out the organized will of others. Even now, 
 were he to afford a clue by which one of those secret 
 societies, those brotherhoods of blood, might be dis- 
 covered — even now, at the last moment, he might hope 
 for a respite, for the judge was still near. But no ! The 
 wretch who had steeped his hands in the lifeblood of his 
 fellow-creature, who had rendered a once happy hearth 
 desolate, and sent forth the widow and orphan unpro- 
 tected — even this wretch, I say, felt a false sense of 
 
240 RECOLLECTIONS OF AS IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 honour — an obligation to shield his accomplices ; and 
 while he recklessly committed a crime of the deepest 
 dye before the eye of his offended Maker, he still 
 refused to break an oath which he had sworn at the 
 bidding of his terrible copartners in guilt. 
 
 Well assured of this, I felt less, sympathy for the 
 man before me than I should otherwise have done,-and 
 hurried out of the cell — feeling that the presence of 
 such a being was highly distasteful, and far from being 
 that object of commiseration I had fully expected to 
 find in him. 
 
 As we re-entered the yard, Vokes asked the head 
 gaoler whether the prisoner's clothes had been destroyed. 
 The official bowed assent, and we passed on. I could 
 not resist my desire of asking the chief magistrate why 
 this was done. 
 
 " I'll tell you," said he. " It has proved most effica- 
 cious in repressing crime." 
 
 " Burning a man's apparel a measure calculated to 
 check crime ! Pshaw ! you are joking." 
 
 " Not so. Did you not see that the prisoner was 
 dressed in white flannel — his own habiliments having 
 been made away with, probably burnt. It was to 
 ascertain this fact that I walked up here with you." 
 
 " Upon my honour, your ways are most strange. Pray 
 explain yourself. I really should like to know the con- 
 nexion between the destruction of a coat and breeches 
 and the suppression of murder." 
 
 " I will gratify you. You must know, then, that 
 when this county first earned its fatal celebrity, every 
 means were adopted to put down the lawless bands 
 which then paraded through our fields in open day- 
 
THE HANG1LLS. 241 
 
 light. Special commissions had no effect. Prompt 
 executions were of no avail. Guilt still enjoyed her 
 supremacy. And when an execution took place, it 
 was rather a scene of triumph for the condemned man 
 than the severe and wholesome lesson it was intended 
 to impart. Cheers greeted the monster as he ascended 
 the scaffold, and when he was cut down his body was 
 carried away to be interred with drunken pomp. The 
 latter portion of this was, however, easily put a stop 
 to. The bodies were ordered to be buried within the 
 precincts of the gaol : and, indeed, on some occasions, 
 they were given over to the surgeons for dissection, to 
 the great horror of their relatives. This gave a tem- 
 porary check to crime ; but after awhile, it was clear 
 that they became callous on this head, and even these 
 salutary measures ceased to alarm them. 
 
 " About this time I became an officer of Govern- 
 ment, and I mentally vowed to find out what consola- 
 tion they had introduced to meet the terrible stroke 
 aimed at them, in thus depriving them of the dead 
 bodies of those they loved. 
 
 "After considerable trouble — for they jealously 
 guarded their secret — I found out that immediately on 
 each execution taking place, the friends of the culprit 
 came to the prison-gate and claimed his clothes, which, 
 as the governor of the gaol thought they had an 
 undoubted right to them, were duly delivered ; and 
 loaded with these, they set off to some neighbour's 
 cabin — generally speaking, in some distant and se- 
 cluded spot — and here, having arranged the gar- 
 ments in a proper form, they went through the whole 
 mockery of waktxg tkf.it ! Here the whisky flowed, 
 16 
 
242 RECOLLECTION'S OP AN IBISII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 and the tobacco-smoke formed a canopy of cloud ; here 
 they danced round the apparel of the deceased ; here 
 they poured forth blessings on the soul of the man who 
 had been hanged, and called down curses, mingled 
 with oaths of vengeance, on his murderers — thus 
 designating all who had in any way assisted in bringing 
 the assassin to justice. Drunk, furious, and ungo- 
 vernable, these creatures, consisting of men, women, 
 and children, screamed round the supposed corpse, and 
 long ere they were sober, attended the clothes in mock 
 burial to some hole which had been dug in the garden 
 to receive them." 
 
 u Well, how could you stop them V 
 " In the most simple manner. On the morning of 
 his execution, each condemned felon, male or female, 
 was stripped of his or her usual habiliments, and plain 
 costumes, made of white flannel, placed on them. Thus 
 clad, they appeared before the crowd, to their great 
 horror and astonishment, which was not a little in- 
 creased when, on application at the gate, they were 
 
 told that the clothes of , the person just hanged, 
 
 had been burnt that morning by order of the justices. 
 Ridiculous as this remedy may appear to you, it 
 alarmed all the superstitious fears of the peasantry, 
 and afforded a more effectual check to crime than any 
 other measure I have hitherto been lucky enough 
 to originate," 
 
 This explanation, I must confess, surprised me much 
 at the time it was given ; but I subsequently found 
 that it was perfectly correct, for I personally observed, 
 when more closely investigating the character of the 
 Irish peasantry, that the sorrow for death melts away 
 
THE HANGMAN. 
 
 243 
 
 before the triumph of a "grand wake" — a long re- 
 membered glory, quoted ever afterwards in the family 
 of a poor man, with the same pride which bestows a 
 magnificent funeral on a member of a superior class — - 
 a tribute of vain respect paid by the living to the dead 
 in the sister country — a tribute which can do little good 
 to the latter, while it has often proved ruinous to the 
 unhappy survivors. 
 
 We now entered the small square room immediately 
 beneath the drop, where a band of officials were seated, 
 awaiting their turn of duty in the approaching melan- 
 choly ceremony. 
 
 From the corner of this apartment a winding stair- 
 case leads to the platform above, where the gallows is 
 erected. To this staircase I was hurrying, when I felt 
 myself suddenly lassoed (if the term may be allowed). 
 I was caught tightly round th e throat by a rope which 
 had a slip-knot, now drawn tightly close, while I be- 
 held at the other end of it the most fearful-looking 
 little monster that I ever met with. There he stood 
 grinning at me, the living picture of Hans of Iceland. 
 Not above four feet high, blear-eyed, strongly wrinkled 
 from age — active as a cat — there he stood tugging away 
 at me, or rather firmly holding me — for, truth to con- 
 fess, the tightning of the cord partly arose from my own 
 plunges to escape — while the men around us joined in 
 the horrid laughter which exposed to my view the 
 wide mouth and the thirty-two pearl-white fangs of 
 this fearful nondescript. Overcome by a feeling of 
 danger, I drew my sword, and I verily do believe that 
 the next instant would have seen me pass it through 
 the diminutive ruffian's body, had not Yokes, checking 
 
 16-2 
 
2ii RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 his mirth, roared out, " For shame, man ! put up your 
 sword ; its ouly little Micky, the hangman." 
 
 " Gradi, gradi !'* cried the facetious monster, holding 
 out his hand in the most unmistakeable manner. 
 u Gradi, yer honour f 
 
 Had I had gold in my pocket, instead of small silver, 
 I think I should have bestowed it all with alacrity on 
 the disgusting fellow, so anxious was I to get out of 
 his clutches ; as it was, I threw him a few shillings, 
 and asked a turnkey standing near to take off my 
 " hempen collar," for I shrank from the touch of little 
 llicky ; and half ashamed of my unseemly violence, I 
 clambered up the steps, which in another half hour 
 would feel the last tread of the condemned felon. 
 
 The apparatus that I came to see was of the simplest 
 kind. The portico on which it was reared was sur- 
 rounded by a high wall, so only those could be seen 
 who mounted the actual platform, some five feet above 
 lis ; so I had time to look at the terrible engine, with- 
 out being perceived by the populace, who had already 
 collected in large numbers. 
 
 The small spot on which we now stood closely re- 
 sembled a battery, and I believe this idea was not 
 absent from the mind of him who selected it as a place 
 of execution, since any attack on the authorities, or 
 attempt to rescue the prisoner, the slightest suspicion 
 of such an event occurring, and the whole party could 
 shelter themselves behind the breastwork, and retire 
 down the staircase or not, as they might deem best. 
 
 Yokes told me a strange superstition — namely, the 
 conviction in the popular mind, that when a man and 
 * Charity. 
 
THE HA^GMAK. 
 
 245 
 
 Toman are executed together — which in these times 
 was not a very rare occurrence — if thej happened in 
 swinging about to turn their backs to each other, it 
 betokened their guilt : a token from Providence winch, 
 none could dare to doubt. 
 
 As the time for the awful ceremony approached, we 
 got away; and I confess I was glad to again find 
 rnvsc]: at borne. 
 
 But here my annoyances did not end. About two 
 hours later, I received an order to escort the Landman 
 back to Ennis, which was anything but pleasant, as it 
 was quite sure we should be pelted with stones the 
 whole way ; but as I had already shirked the public 
 performance of Mr. Micky, I did not see how I could 
 get out of the scrape. I stated my case to Yokes, and 
 added the sore grievance of my being forced to give up 
 a most pleasant dinner-party in order to shield, during 
 some eight or ten hours, a being whom I disliked and 
 loathed. 
 
 Yokes laughed at my chagrin, but promised to re- 
 lieve me from my unpleasant predicament. He put 
 <m his hat and went across [to the general (Sir C. D.) ; 
 in a few moments he returned, and with a smile handed 
 me a scrap of paper — a copy of an order sent to the 
 barracks : * Thirty men of the 32nd, in charge of a 
 .subaltern officer, will proceed to Ennis this evening, at 
 five o'clock p.m., on escort duty. The men to be sup- 
 plied with the usual rounds of baH-cartridge." I at 
 once saw that I was free, and after thanking my rela- 
 tive, asked him how he managed it. 
 buf Well, then, can't you see I Sure the horses might 
 get injured by the stones which are sure to be thrown 
 
246 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 at them by the angry crowd ; and as the cart in which 
 Micky travels only goes foot-pace, he requires infantry, 
 not cavalry, to protect him properly." 
 
 I quite agreed with the magistrate, and silently 
 drank his health, as I sat at M 's pleasant dinner- 
 table. 
 
 Though trifling, the incident showed that Vokes was 
 ever ready to meet and overcome circumstances. 
 
 The escort party were much annoyed ; some of the 
 men were hurt ; all were irritated by the manner in 
 which they were treated and abused. The officer, who 
 had great difficulty in preventing his men from firing, 
 assured me he would not pass such another night— one 
 so unprofitable, so tiresome, and at the same time so 
 degrading — to obtain a step in rank. 
 
247 
 
 PEASANT PEIDE. 
 
 " There are decidedly many traits of our Spanish 
 origin still existent amongst the Irish peasantry," urged 
 Vokes. " In the superior ranks these strongly marked 
 characteristics, however, are, it is true, lost. But I 
 account for this difference of feeling in a very simple 
 way. The landowners and gentry of Ireland have 
 ever sought alliances with English families. Add to 
 which, the many grants conferred on your countrymen, 
 my dear Harry, by Cromwell, King William, and 
 others, and you will at once trace the dilution of these 
 attributes. Nay, do not look annoyed ; I do not mean 
 by the word in question any weakening of their 
 strength, but the natural change which such a com- 
 mingling must bring." 
 
 " It is not of the upper orders I would speak. I was 
 trying to come at the distinctive points of a thorough- 
 bred son of the soil." 
 
 " Well, then, as I said before, I look upon their origin 
 to have been Spanish. Does not the very designation 
 Hibernian convey it. Is the expression itself more 
 than a mere corruption of the old Latin name of 
 Iberia ? Are the prominent points of their disposition 
 
248 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 not decidedly Iberian? Are they not revengeful, 
 lazy, and proud 1 Will they not assassinate in cold 
 blood for hire P 
 
 " This is indeed a dark picture." 
 
 " Every picture may be viewed in different lights. 
 Are they not equally warm-hearted, generous, hos- 
 pitable, and brave, attached to their ancestors, and 
 wedded to the spot on which they were born ? Are 
 they not naturally witty, handsome, and affectionate P 
 
 " Your sketch is somewhat conflicting." 
 
 " Not more so than the character of those I would 
 portray. A Protestant clergyman was cruelly mur- 
 dered on the public road some months ago, while 
 travelling with his family in an open car, on one of the 
 most well-frequented roads in the county of Tipperary. 
 The men were taken up, and proved to be strangers to 
 the locality. For fifteen shillings each they had 
 travelled from their own home, situated some thirty 
 miles distant, and without any motive, beyond that of 
 securing the bribe, shot the unhappy victim. On 
 tracing their movements and acts subsequent to the 
 assassination, I found that one of them only had 
 waited the " price of blood " on drink ; a second bore 
 it home, and handed it over untouched to his bedridden 
 parent; a third gave ten shillings of it to his sweet- 
 heart ; while the fourth (for that was their numerical 
 force), probably shocked at what he had done, paid 
 nearly the whole sum for masses in favour of his fathers 
 soul. Here surely we recognise the fearful careless- 
 ness with which these people treat human life. The 
 Irishman substitutes the more manly weapons, the gun 
 and the pistol, for the poisoned bowl and the dagger, 
 
PEASANT PRIDE. 
 
 249 
 
 but they are no less ready than the Spaniard to destroy 
 a fellow-being, if paid for so doing." 
 
 " I hope this is an isolated case ? " 
 
 " By no means ; it is rather, as the American legend 
 was, " unus e 2?luribns." But let us pass that over, 
 and see whether the native of Erin is not as proud as 
 the most bigoted child of Spain. Why, if you will 
 scrutinize them closely, you will find that there is 
 not a tenant holding a quarter of an acre of land on any 
 gentleman's property in Munster that does not speak 
 of his wretched holding — his mud cabin — as an heredi- 
 tary estate, and will fiercely put that man to death who 
 dares to attempt to evict him from it, or as he more 
 pompously observes — "the man that would cruelly drive 
 him from beneath the roof of his ancestors." It is from 
 this simple cause that all our most sanguinary struggles 
 have arisen. In England, your small cottages often 
 change their inhabitants. If a large proprietor finds 
 that a small dwelling interferes with the view from his 
 mansion, he orders it to be pulled down. If a tenant 
 refuses to pay rent, he is at once turned out. Heaven 
 help you, my dear fellow, if you tried such an experi- 
 ment in this county. Your life would not be worth a 
 day's purchase. While as to pride, every cottager 
 believes himself to be the descendant of some great 
 chief, and his eyes lighten up with triumph when he 
 by chance hears of the deeds of a Desmond or a Brian 
 Borholun. They are as proud as any hidalgo in his 
 Most Catholic Majesty's dominions." 
 
 " But you said they were lazy ? " 
 
 " To see them working on their own little gardens, 
 or to see them cutting turf in the bog for their winter's 
 
250 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 supply, would almost persuade you that they are the 
 most laborious people upon earth. But as to working 
 for wages, they will always shirk it when they can. I 
 will recount to you an anecdote illustrative of this fact. 
 
 " Some years ago, an officer in the 4th Dragoon 
 Guards, who was quartered in Ireland, felt so much 
 for the labouring classes in this county, compelled to 
 work all day long for sevenpence per diem, that he 
 mentally resolved to assist the over-worked peasantry, 
 if ever he had the power to do so. This opportunity 
 shortly afterwards presented itself A relative unex- 
 pectedly died, and left him 10,000L Full of his 
 
 favourite project, our friend E instantly sold out 
 
 of the army and came over to Ireland then and there 
 to do good to himself, and to raise the degraded condi- 
 tion of the labourer and mechanic in that country. 
 Filled with this noble, and, at the same time, profitable 
 idea, he at once embarked for Cork. 
 
 " In this fine county he soon found an establishment 
 where he could employ fifty or sixty hands, and which, 
 even supposing he gave the workers in it double wages, 
 would still afford him a broad margin of profit. 
 
 He then hired a very pretty little farm, and here Iris 
 calculation was even still more flattering ; so he at 
 once took into his employ some two hundred persons, 
 engaging to pay them one hundred per cent, more than 
 they were in the habit of receiving. This was a glorious 
 
 windfall for the Corkians, and as E hoped, a no 
 
 less fortunate idea for himself. 
 
 " During the first month matters went on most pros- 
 perously ; the mill yielded its full quantum, and the 
 ledger showed, notwithstanding the high wages paid, a 
 
PEASANT PRIDE. 
 
 251 
 
 most profitable return. Paddy worked hard for his 
 increased pay, and my friend's agriculture was quoted 
 as unequalled. 
 
 " After about three months the attendance of the 
 persons engaged wa3 not quite so regular. Many of 
 the hands in the mill were compelled by sickness to 
 absent themselves, while the ploughers, and sowers, and 
 tillers had so many engagements elsewhere, and met 
 with so many accidents, that not one half of them ever 
 answered at roll-call. 
 
 "This was disheartening, especially as spring was 
 
 coining on. But E had a sanguine hope that 
 
 matters would soon mend. But, alas ! they grew worse 
 and worse. The philanthropic speculator's affairs got 
 into confusion. His half-worked mill, his half- farmed 
 acres, plunged him into trouble, and in little less than 
 
 a year the name of E appeared in the Bankrupts 7 
 
 Gazette. Poor fellow! He left this country disappointed 
 in vanity and feeling, ruined in prospects and in purse, 
 and still worse, carrying with him the assurance of his 
 faithful Irish superintendent,, that 'faith, his honour 
 could expect nothing better in a free country.' 
 
 " 6 Why so V echoed the ex-dragoon. 
 
 " 1 Ah, then, did you think we were all fools ? Did 
 you think that when a man could live on sevenpence 
 a day he'd work more than three days in the week ? 
 or imagine a fellow would toil six in a mill when he 
 could make enough in three to keep him ? Xo. no \ 
 we're not such omadthawns as that f 
 
 "E returned to England, where he made a 
 
 second fortune, a better and a wiser man." 
 
 I laughed heartily at the anecdote, which indeed I 
 
252 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 have since heard confirmed from the lips of E 
 
 himself, who is now a celebrated physician in London. 
 
 At this moment, the police magistrate was called 
 away, and I thought no more of the subject. Nor 
 indeed did it ever occur to me again, till I met my 
 relative several years afterwards in London, when he 
 handed to me a copy of an Irish newspaper, and with a 
 glance of triumph exclaimed, " Read that trial of a 
 man in our county, and I think you will allow that I 
 was right in my description given of the peasantry. 
 Ryan Pack, for many years the scourge of the county 
 of Limerick, has been taken up, and his trial shows 
 how a man may be hired to shed blood in the south 
 of Ireland, as well as the pride which lurks in the 
 breast of even a convicted assassin." 
 
 I took the journal and read it. The case had been 
 tried before an especial assize. I do not recollect the 
 minute details, nor would it be necessary, even if I 
 did, to record them in cxlenso. 
 
 The leading features which affected the statements 
 of Vokes, I think ran thus : — 
 
 A certain Kyan Pack, against whom several 
 charges of murder had been sworn, had long eluded 
 the vigilance of the Limerick and Tipperarv police. 
 -In vain they looked after him. He seemed Proteus- 
 like to change his form whenever they approached him, 
 and when they set off, in full conviction of catching 
 him on one side of the county, his actual presence on 
 the other was fatally announced by some terrific 
 murder in that direction. On one occasion, it is said, 
 two policemen slept in the same cabin with him, un- 
 aware of his proximity, and on another, a policeman 
 
PEASANT PRIDE. 
 
 253 
 
 drove into a village riding on the shafts of a turf-cart, 
 in the centre of which Mr. Pack was carefully packed. 
 The ruffian was here, there, and everywhere. He 
 laughed at the rewards offered for his apprehension, 
 and surrounded by crowds, tore down the printed bills 
 describing his person. Bold, reckless, and Cruel, he 
 was at once the idol and the terror of the multitude. 
 I have reason to believe that it was through the un- 
 tiring exertions and intelligence of Mr. John Stephen 
 Dwyer, a magistrate for the two counties, that By an 
 Pack was at length captured and placed in durance 
 vile. And now began the many difficulties which arose 
 in bringing the wretch to justice in a country where no 
 one would willingly come forward to bear testimony 
 against him. 
 
 Among other proofs which fell into the hands of the 
 lawyers, was a scrap of paper — evidently a page torn 
 out of a sort of diary which the prisoner (he being a 
 scholar) appeared to have kept with great regularity. 
 In addition to the one I here quote, others were 
 found which proved that Pack was most particular 
 and strict in his religious duties and attendances ; and 
 indeed his conduct in prison proved the sincerity of 
 this feeling — for no man was ever more attentive to the 
 good advice of his clergy, or more ready to satisfy the 
 inquiries of justice when desired to do so by his priest. 
 To return, however, to the memorandum in question. 
 It ran thus : — 
 
 ¥ 1838— April. To a cursitshute .... 1 
 1840— Feb. To a cursitshute .... 1 
 1842 — May. To a cursitshute . . . . ] 
 1846 — Jan, To a cursitshute . . . . 1." 
 
254 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 And other similar entries — altogether sixteen in 
 number. 
 
 The meaning of these items baffled even the acute 
 penetration of the Crown lawyers, and was only solved 
 at last by the magistrate I have mentioned, who thus 
 made them into English : — 
 
 « 1846— Jan. to a cursed shot . . . £\. n 
 i.e., Ryan Pack had received one pound for shooting a 
 fellow-being, though he well knew at the time that 
 the deed was accursed. Mr. Dwyer is said to have 
 arrived at this solution by observing that the dates of 
 each entry exactly tallied with a corresponding date 
 on which a cruel murder had been committed. The 
 correctness of the deduction was confirmed afterwards 
 by the murderer himself.* 
 
 " There now," said Vokes, " can any system of as- 
 sassination, save that which disgraces Spain, bear 
 comparison with that which seems indigenous to 
 Ireland T 
 
 " Well, I must admit your premises so far; but there 
 does not appear to be much pride shown in becoming 
 a hired spiller of blood." 
 
 " Wait awhile ; go on; read through the case, and 
 
 * The late trial of Walsh in Limerick proves that the same mode 
 of getting rid of an enemy still exists, and that assassins are always 
 to be fonnd who for a trifle will kill the most virtuous individual. 
 It has been very broadly asserted that Beckham and Walsh — ad- 
 mitted, I believe, by the latter — received only fifteen shillings 
 between them for destroying Mr. Fitzgerald, one of the most amiable 
 and inoffensive men in Ireland. But as the whole case will be laid 
 before the public in a few weeks, when the now supposed blood- 
 thirsty employers are to be tried, it would be unfair in me to say 
 more. 
 
PEASANT PRIDE. 
 
 255 
 
 then you will see that my estimate of an Irish peasant's 
 ideas are not far wrong." 
 
 In reading through the details of the trial, in the 
 course of which the counsel for the Crown closely ex- 
 amined the prisoner, in order to exhibit the state of 
 feeling throughout the district, I found him asking 
 several witnesses whether they would shoot a man for 
 a bribe, and in two instances out of three, to the 
 horror of the Court, they admitted they would, and 
 seemed to glory in their recklessness. 
 
 At length the jury pronounced a verdict of Guilty, 
 and .Ryan Pack heard without emotion the sentence 
 of death passed on him. 
 
 In the following number of the newspaper, with 
 that morbid punctuality so welcome to journal readers, 
 the sayings and doings of the wretched criminal were 
 described in the most minute manner, from the hour 
 of his conviction to that of his death. A party of 
 county gentlemen had visited the culprit, and had, out 
 of a strange curiosity, asked him — 
 
 " Would you have shot any one of us for a pound- 
 note r 
 
 "I would." 
 
 " What ! even if we had never offended you 1" 
 
 u Faith, that was not my business." 
 
 "Would you have shot Mr. W P — (naming a 
 
 popular magistrate). " Would you have shot him for 
 one pound ?" 
 
 " Decidedly !" 
 
 "Why, he is a Catholic." 
 
 " The more sure of going to heaven." 
 
 " Would you have shot this gentleman 2" asked 
 
256 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 one, pointing towards Mr. Dwyer, who just then 
 entered. " You would have shot him with pleasure, 
 I'm thinking." 
 
 " Not so," said Ryan Pack, quickly. " I never 
 should have thought of trying it — not I : for though 
 he's sharp and rather severe, he's just and fair to those 
 whom he fancies wronged, and right good to the poor. 
 I wouldn't have shot him — indeed, I could if I had liked 
 it ; but, as I told you, I wouldn't. And now I'd like 
 to be left alone." 
 
 " I only came," put in Mr. Dwyer, " because you 
 sent for me." 
 
 " Faith, it's true for ye. I knew that you would not 
 come out of mere curiosity to look at a dying man like 
 a wild beast. I don't mean to offend you, gentlemen ; 
 but as you are here, you may as well hear what I 
 have to say. I sent for you, sir," said he, addressing 
 Dwyer, "to tell you that I forgive you for causing 
 my apprehension, and also that I consider that you 
 conducted the whole affair in a just and upright way, 
 and to acknowledge that my sentence is just" 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say so, Ryan. If you have 
 anything on your mind at once unburthen it, and 
 I'll do all I can to console you." 
 
 " Oh, as far as that goes, I have confessed to my 
 clergy, and made my peace with Heaven. But one 
 thing docs afflict me and grieve me in the moment 
 of death." 
 
 11 And what is it ? Can I alleviate your sorrow ?" 
 " Impossible ! Besides, his reverence says my feel- 
 ing is wicked." 
 " What is it P 
 
PEASANT PPvIDE. 
 
 257 
 
 "Well, then, I'll tell ye. It is that I, who have 
 always held my head high, and lived as a respectable 
 hoy, should now be hung for shooting a low feather- 
 merchant, when I had opportunities every day of 
 killing a magistrate, or a grand juror, or the first land- 
 holders in the county, and so dying decently for a 
 genteel crime, instead of thus sneaking out of the 
 world for destroying a low feather-seller. Mr. Dwyer, 
 this it is that grieves me." 
 
 In the next newspaper the execution of Ryan Puck 
 was described. He died calmly, and without fear or 
 apparent remorse. 
 
 "Well, Henry, was that not pride?" asked Vokes. 
 
 " I admit that it was, and therefore for the future 
 will ever believe in the Spanish qualities of an Irish 
 peasant" 
 
 ir 
 
258 
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 Some forty years ago, there existed in Ireland a race 
 of young men called Bucheeru, or Squireens, the idle 
 sons of gentlemen, of estate, who, possessing little or no 
 means whatsoever, sought by impudenco and wit to 
 earn their daily meal, at least until such time as a 
 stroke of fortuue might happily enable them to find a 
 five-pound note in their pocket — an event which sel- 
 dom occurred, unless through the medium of a com- 
 mission in the army or a fortunate marriage. The 
 young men of the present day born and bred in the 
 sister isle, are glad to become clerks in public or private 
 offices, or to accept any post which may give them an 
 independence. But this was not the case in the first 
 quarter of the present century. A gentleman's son 
 despised commerce of every sort. He shunned the first 
 merchant's office with the same proud disdain with 
 which he treated the lowest shopkeepers. Money- 
 grubbing was beneath his dignity ; the drudgery of an 
 office he contemned. He preferred lounging about the 
 streets in half-starved idleness ; riding occasionally a 
 borrowed horse, or shooting, at the risk of being taken 
 up as a poacher, with a gun and a licence belonging to 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 259 
 
 a neighbour. He swaggered in pride, and boasted in 
 ignorance. He looked down on painstaking respecta- 
 bility, and impatiently awaited the day when his father 
 should thrust him forth in a pair of leather breeches, 
 bestriding a broken-down hunter, and armed with a 
 purse containing some four or five sovereigns. Like 
 a modern Gil Bias in search of adventures, the 
 world before him, he carelessly * took the first path 
 that presented itself, and with a light heart and a brave 
 spirit the " young master" set out to make his fortune, 
 trusting that the proud a O" or the ancient "Mac" 
 which introduced his family name to the world, would 
 gain for him a useful friendship or a profitable love. 
 
 Need I say that we had our full share of these pre- 
 cocious youths in the county and city of Limerick ? 
 Ever ready to win the hand of a dowered maiden, 
 ever ready, if necessary, to fight for it, the Bucheens 
 who lounged up and down George-street were a most 
 formidable body. They had all to gain, nothing to 
 lose ; who, then, would enter into strife with them ? 
 Their sons little know, in 1862, what wild lads their 
 fathers were before them. 
 
 These young gentlemen generally contented them- 
 selves by strutting about, and occasionally playing off 
 practical jokes ; but the following anecdote shows 
 that they did not always confine themselves to inno- 
 cent freaks. 
 
 One of the prettiest girls in the neighbourhood was 
 the daughter of a gentleman farmer, alike celebrated 
 for his large fortune and the jealous care with which he 
 watched his adored child, she had only just completed 
 her fifteenth birthday, and on that auspicious occasion 
 
 17—2 
 
2 CO RFCOLLFXTIOXS OP AS IRISH POLTCE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 the doating father had so far relaxed his usual strict- 
 ness that he had given a ball, and invited to it 
 many of the young gentlemen, sons of the magistrates 
 and grand jurors, who lived around him. These plea- 
 sure-seeking lads gladly accepted the proffered civility, 
 anxious at the same time to dance with the lovely 
 heiress (for she was an only child), and make up for 
 the stern exclusiveness of their parents, who refused 
 to visit one whom they styled a mere yeoman, 
 
 Young saw the sweet and interesting creature, 
 
 the heroine of the fete, and danced with her. To see 
 
 her was to love her, and poor at once became 
 
 desperately enamoured with her ; love at first sight 
 never wounded so deeply. The stricken youngster 
 came home an altered man. He could neither eat, 
 drink, nor sleep. He no longer followed the hounds, 
 as he had hitherto done, sometimes on horseback, some- 
 times on foot ; the oyster-cellars were forsaken ; the 
 racket-court abandoned ; the wretched victim could do 
 nothing but talk of his enchantress during the day and 
 dream of her at night. It is true that he had at- 
 tempted to broach the subject to his parents, who at 
 once united in a dire threat to turn him out of the castle, 
 if he dared again to speak of the u low creature." His 
 mother, who was the niece of a nobleman, fainted away 
 when she heard her son speak highly of a "yeoman's 
 daughter." Thus stood matters in his own house. 
 
 Young was no less unfortunate in his attempts 
 
 to win the hand of the lovely girl with the consent of 
 her father. Far from considering the proposal as an 
 honour, the irritated sire desired the Buchecn to leave 
 his house, and threatened him with personal castiga- 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 261 
 
 tion if ever he caught him again within his ring 
 fence. 
 
 The young lady gave no encouragement to the deeply- 
 enamoured Squireen, whose passion seemed only to in- 
 crease with obstacles, and at length became a settled 
 madness. 
 
 Determined to possess the object of his hopes at 
 any price, and seeing that all ordinary means failed, the 
 reckless youth determined on carrying her off — a mode 
 of gaining a wife, ban gre, malgre, bub too often adopted 
 in the South of Ireland. For this purpose he secured 
 the assistance of some of his friends and some unprin- 
 cipled retainers, and one day, when Miss « was 
 
 riding home, attended by a single servant, who it is 
 believed was in league with the abductors, they pounced 
 on her and carried her off. 
 
 Within a few hours it was ascertained, though not 
 
 without considerable trouble, that young had 
 
 carried off his prize to a solitary farmhouse, standing 
 in the midst of an extensive bog, some twenty miles 
 from her father's residence. 
 
 The bereaved parent was naturally angered at the 
 outrage, and in his first fit of passion vowed to destroy 
 the cruel abductor ; but on calm reflection, on consulta- 
 tion with his best friends, he became convinced of the 
 futility of any personal exertion on his part — any single 
 attempt to recover his lost treasure. He therefore rode 
 into Limerick, and swore informations before the bench 
 of magistrates then sitting. These gentlemen at once 
 ordered out a considerable force, consisting of military 
 and police, with strict injunctions to proceed to the farm- 
 house in the bog, and bring back the imprisoned girl. 
 
262 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IBISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 The anxious father saw all the preparations made, 
 and was about to ride home and obtain some farther 
 information as to the exact locality, when a note was 
 thrust into his hand by a little ragged urchin, who no 
 sooner saw it in the yeoman's possession, than he fle I 
 quickly, and was soon beyond the reach of pursuit. 
 Mr. opened the note ; it ran thus : — 
 
 "Sir, — It is true that I have carried off your 
 daughter, and brought her here. It is true that I 
 adore her, and intend to marry her. If she is wise she 
 will consent ; fur I will prove myself a good and 
 affectionate husband If you are not silly, you #111 
 advise her to do so, and thus ally yourself with one of 
 the oldest blood-stocks in Munster. I say this in a 
 friendly manner — desiring peace. If she refuses, by 
 all I hold sacred, I will many her by force. I am no 
 boy — and she will repent it. So now take your choice. 
 If you send an answer by a little boy (and I can see 
 all who approach within a mile) I will show it to her. 
 So I advise you give her good counsel in it. If, on tho 
 
 contrary, you attempt to recover her by force, by , 
 
 you shall repent it. If you bring any of the soldiery 
 or the Peelers near me you will for ever rue it. I am 
 determined — I am sworn. And the very first man 
 that approaches this house I will destroy, and then, as 
 I know that the struggle is useless, I will instantly 
 shoot your daughter, and then blow out my own brains ; 
 for as I hope for Eternity, I cannot, will not, live with- 
 out her. If you try force, you, not I, will be the mur- 
 derer of your daughter in the sight of heaven ! 
 
 "Hugh 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 263 
 
 The wretched man staggered as if he had been shot. 
 He well knew the desperate character of his daughter's 
 abductor ; he fully believed that he would carry out, 
 to its full extent, the threat contained in the young 
 man's letter. What could he do ? His love for his 
 child overcame his desire for vengeance, and he went 
 back and earnestly begged of the magistrates to post- 
 pone their attack. This, with great reluctance, they 
 consented to do, but only extended their forbearance 
 for four-and-twenty hours. 
 
 The next step which naturally suggested itself to 
 the affrighted parent was to call on Yokes, who at 
 once took up the case, on the strict condition that he 
 should not be interfered with. This was agreed to, 
 and he at once began his measures. 
 
 " Write," said Vokes, " write a reply." 
 
 "What shall I say !" 
 
 The Major dictated an answer ; it ran thus : — 
 
 " Until to-morrow, I pledge myself not to molest 
 you j this will give me time for reflection. It will 
 give you the same advantage. If a spark of honour 
 still lurks in your breast, you will not injure my 
 child. 
 
 "John *" 
 
 "But how shall I transmit it I" 
 
 "Give it me ; I'll have it placed in the fellow's 
 hands. I'll send it by my milking-maid ; they will 
 allow her to approach. So be easy on this subject." 
 
 " You think, then, he'll deliver my daughter up f ' 
 
 " Decidedly not." 
 
 "What, then, do you think? As you value nvy 
 
264 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IK1BII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 peace of mind, tell me candidly. I beseech you to 
 open your breast to me P 
 
 "Well, then, to tell you the truth, I think that 
 when he finds you are determined on recapturing her, 
 he will marry her." 
 
 "Marry her? — marry her? Oh, do not say so; 
 pray do not P 
 
 " It is my opinion. To-night he will send for a priest, 
 real or mock, and go through the ceremony of espousing 
 her. To-morrow he will throw open the doors and 
 offer her back, if you will take her." 
 
 " Oh, this is too horrible. Can nothing be done ? Til 
 give any money, Til risk any danger, but let me have 
 my darling back again. Ob, Major Vokes, I know 
 your wonderful powers — do exert them on my behalf!" 
 
 " Well, I really feel for your situation, and will do 
 all that I can." 
 
 The bereaved yeoman after a few more words left 
 the chief magistrate, and by the desire of that func- 
 tionary returned to his now desolate home. 
 
 Soon after this, Vokes quietly strolled down to his 
 office, and ordered two of lis men to steal separately and 
 unseen into the neighbourhood of the farm-house in the 
 bog, in plain clothes, and then to hide themselves in 
 some of the outbuildings till a signal should be given 
 them, when they were instantly, if possible, to make a 
 forcible entry ; but on no account to allow themselves 
 to be detected before that period. They need not 
 start on the expedition till after dark, and were to take 
 notice of anything that occurred, and let him know. 
 He would be in a small cabin about two miles from 
 the spot, and would there await intelligence from them. 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 265 
 
 All went on well. No suspicions were aroused, and 
 Vokes and his men took up their respective stations, 
 hidden from sight by the darkness of a winters night. 
 
 At about eight o'clock, a low tap at the cottage 
 door, where Yokes was seated alone, aroused him from 
 a short nap he was taking, and having opened it him- 
 self, for he had no follower with him, having sent 
 out the proprietor of the hut in order to avoid obser- 
 vation, he ushered in a man in a large horseman's 
 cloak, escorted by a policeman, who withdrew to a far 
 corner, and allowed the magistrate to examine the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Why am I brought here '? " 
 
 " I'll tell you that,'' replied the Major, "after having 
 learnt how you fell into the hands of the policeman 
 yonder." 
 
 " I came from the farm in the bog. I was sent on a 
 message by the young master, and I'd like to know by 
 what right I have been seized and dragged here, and 
 who are you, who dare to sanction such an outrage on 
 one who has never offended." 
 
 "There you mistake, James * Mackinespie. You 
 killed Lame Murphy at the fair of Cashel." The man 
 started, and evidently looked round with an idea of 
 escaping. 
 
 " And as to myself, I am Tom Yokes." 
 
 "The Lord be good to me," cried the now trembling 
 wretch. " The Lord be good to me ; I'm a lost 
 man." 
 
 " Not so. Be true to me, and you shall be free 
 before daylight. I'm not looking for you just now." 
 " May Providence preserve you, Major dear. Sure 
 
2G6 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 I'd give my life for you. Oh, then, spare me, yer 
 
 honour ; you'll find me true to ye." 
 
 " On what message were you sent, and to whom l w 
 
 * To the clergyman, sure." 
 "And what for]" 
 
 " K The divii a one of me knows, then." 
 
 * How could you, then, tell him what was wanted t" 
 " Ah, then, sir, if you must know " 
 
 " I will know," roared Vokes, " or I send you off 
 to Linierick at once." 
 
 " Well, then, yer honour, don't do that. Sure the 
 master gave me this bit of a note." 
 
 The magistrate snatched it from him, and tore it 
 open. 
 
 " Revd. Sir, — Will you come here as soon as pos- 
 sible, and bring your canonicals and your book of 
 prayer with you ? The bearer (whom you may trust 
 in every way) will guide you. Pray make haste. 
 
 * Yours, 
 
 " Hugh ? 
 
 " Umph ; the fellow wishes to make my reverend 
 friend believe that it is to shrive some dying penitent. 
 Faith, he's a cute lad, but I'll balk his plans." 
 
 " Well, sir, may I go now 1 " 
 
 " Yes ; to his reverence. I'll accompany you. So 
 come along. Constable, you may return to your poet," j 
 And away trotted the C. M. P. and the messenger to 
 the clergyman's. 
 
 Arrived here, none knew what passed, but the] 
 upshot was, that Yokes and the sacred minister shortly] 
 
THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 267 
 
 after left the house, and directed their steps towards 
 the farm in the bog. The worthy functionary was 
 closely muffled up in Mackinespie's ample cloak. 
 
 " Don't look round," said Yokes, as they approached 
 the building, w when I follow you in; they'll take me 
 for the messenger they despatched." 
 
 " True ; but I hardly like the part I have to ptay. 
 It is scarcely in keeping with my holy calling. I 
 should not lend myself to a deceit." 
 
 " Not even to rescue an innocent girl from the clutches 
 of a scoundrel, who must eternally ruin her unless we 
 can now manage to circumvent him 1 " 
 
 " And the danger ! " 
 
 " Oh, there is none to you, and as to me, I laugh at it. 
 Believe me, sir, in thus acting, you do a good and noble 
 deed." 
 
 H I hope so," whispered the other, as he knocked at 
 the door. 
 
 " Don't forget to make some scruples at first, and 
 then consent." 
 * I hate deceit !" 
 
 " Who's there P roared a voice, and a head appeared 
 through the window. w Ah, I perceive it is your Re- 
 verence and James ; I could scarcely see you, it was 
 so dark. I'll come down and let you in." 
 
 "Now, then, I succeed or die," slowly muttered Yokes. 
 
 The next moment they entered. The clergyman 
 
 went upstairs with young . The supposed servant 
 
 remained behind to fasten the door ; how far he did 
 so, the sequel will prove. 
 
 After a very short parley, it appeared that the priest 
 consented to perform the ceremony. Two large tapers 
 
2G8 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 were accordingly lighted, and his Reverence put on 
 his canonicals, and pulled out his book, while the 
 Bucheen sought the room in which he had imprisoned 
 his wretched captive, and dragged her out to be married. 
 
 In vain she besought him to desist ; in vain she 
 knelt before him. He pulled her hastily and vio- 
 lently along, and seizing her in his powerful grasp, he 
 placed her before the table on which the volume lay 
 open ; the clergyman stood behind it, and an old bel- 
 dame rocked herself in a chair, waiting to hear that 
 ceremony performed, to which she was to act as a 
 witness. 
 
 " Go on I" roared the excited youth. " Go on P 
 
 " We must have a second person to attest the mar- 
 riage," quietly replied the priest. 
 
 " Right, right ; I forgot that. Here, Mackinespie, 
 come here — quick — I want you. Don t wait for any- 
 thing ; come up P and hearing his supposed follower's 
 step approaching, he turned to the table. 
 
 Another instant, and the almost fainting girl gave a 
 loud scream, and attempted to dart away. Young 
 
 turned round. A pistol was presented at his 
 
 head, and a firm hand held him by the collar ; a loud 
 whistle, and two men (policemen in plain clothes), 
 armed with carbine and cutlass, rushed in. In his 
 terror and surprise the lady escaped from his grasp, 
 and fled for succour to the priest, who now boldly 
 joined the intruders, and loudly denounced the wretched 
 abductor. 
 
 The sketch requires little more addition. Long be- 
 fore daylight the honest yeoman s car conveyed the 
 now happy girl back to her overjoyed parent. The 
 
THE ABDUCTION, 
 
 269 
 
 young man, by the consent of all parties, was sent off 
 to Dublin. The affair was hushed up, and the feelings 
 of all parties thus spared. 
 
 Miss (after her father's death) went out to 
 
 India, and married an officer of rank. But she never 
 returned to the county of Limerick, where she had no 
 family ties. 
 
 The young Squireen, it is said, entered the Com- 
 pany's military service, and received promotion for 
 some exceedingly gallant actions. 
 
 Who can say whether the abductor and abducted 
 may not be the gay and happy couple who, surrounded 
 by several beautiful children, disembarked at South- 
 ampton last year, having left Calcutta six weeks 
 before i 
 
 Vokes is gone, and so are the parents of the young 
 man. None now can solve the mystery. 
 
270 
 
 A DAY IN LIMERICK. 
 
 Limerick, formerly one of the most beautiful and 
 salubrious cities in Ireland, once the throne of gaiety 
 and delight, can, alas ! be no longer quoted as such. 
 Her glories, her charms, exist no longer. Her once 
 brilliant garrison appear to have carried away with 
 them all the proud members of the u right old stock" 
 who made this desirable spot their residence ; while, 
 worse than all, her " lovely lasses," the pride of Erin, > 
 the envy of the world, have equally disappeared, and 
 their once fairy path in George-street is* now usurped I 
 and troden by modern upstarts, commercial boors, and 
 dowdy females, while the silvery tones, the bewitching 
 smiles, and perfect forms of her lovely daughters are I 
 now replaced by the hooded huxter, and the peripatetic J 
 dealer in second-rate lace. The names of those who I 
 once honoured the Club-house by being members of I 
 it, are now superseded by those who could never have I 
 anticipated the honour of entering it. In two lines I 
 we may describe it by thus paraphrasing a passage in 1 
 the prologue to Cato — 
 
 * 1 A city struggling with the storms of fate, 
 And gently fallen with a fallen state," 
 
 Yes, such is Limerick in 1862. She is now perhaps ] 
 
A DAY IN LIMERICK. 
 
 271 
 
 the quietest and dullest place throughout the whole of 
 the sister isle. That she may still rank as a well- 
 situated port, that profitable exportation and importa- 
 tion may still be carried on here, I do not for a 
 moment doubt, and that many respectable individuals 
 make fortunes within her boundaries I am free to 
 admit ; but he who has known her in her halcyon 
 days will mourn over the seeming blight which has 
 come over her, and breathe a sigh as he vainly tries to 
 discover a trace of those who once kept up her glorious 
 hospitalities. 
 
 I am not, however, about to plunge into a lament 
 over her sad change, nor am I capable or desirous 
 of tracing the cause of her decadence ; suffice it 
 to say, that she is so changed that I cannot help 
 thinking that the stirring incidents of a day passed in 
 this gay city some thirty- three years ago, cannot be 
 wholly uninteresting to those who now inhabit or feel 
 an interest in her. 
 
 In the year 1829 I was seated at breakfast in the 
 large coffee-room of Moriarty's (now Cruise's) Hotel ; 
 Vokes had just dropped in, and was chatting with me 
 and discussing the news of the day, when we were 
 joined by Tom Steele*"* — honest Tom Steele, as his 
 
 * The unfortunate end of Steele has been too widely chronicled 
 to require repetition. Should there be any one unacquainted with 
 his melancholy fate, it is sufficient to say that, after struggling 
 with neglect and poverty for many years, he was unfortunately in- 
 duced to attempt suicide ; and, with this intention, threw himself 
 off Waterloo Bridge. He was, however, rescued from a watery 
 grave, and conveyed to Peele's Coffee-house, where he only lingered 
 a few days. Death thus closed the career of this once celebrated 
 character. He died amidst comparative strangers. But the unre- 
 
272 RECOLLECTIONS OP AS IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 countrymen called him, or as he styled himself, the 
 Grand Pacificator of Ireland — a title, poor fellow, he 
 endeavoured to earn by using on all occasions, when 
 addressing the lower orders, the most violent lan- 
 guage — language the most naturally suited to arouse 
 this inflammatory people. Tom Steele stood con- 
 siderably above six feet high ; he stooped, however, 
 more than any man I ever saw. His sloaching gait 
 and swinging arms were most ungainly, while his 
 coarse, sunburnt hands, his shabby habiliments, and 
 his scorbutic face, which might falsely have been 
 supposed to have proceeded from drinking, together 
 with a large bunch of soiled green ribbons attached to 
 the breast of his coat, and a pseudo-regimental cap 
 stuck on his head, might well prejudice a stranger 
 against him ; but when once he opened his mouth, his 
 voice was so extraordinarily mellifluous, his smile was 
 so sweet, his manner was so soft and winning, that 
 these feelings of predislike melted before his superior 
 
 mitting care and attention of those who surrounded his last couch, 
 was gratefully proclaimed by poor Tom in his last moments. Alas t 
 however ; the painful picture does not end here. For though his 
 remains were borne over to Ireland, and laid (by his own desire) in 
 the cemetery of Qlasnevin, within a few yards of those of his adored 
 chief, they have not been allowed to rest there. If we may credit 
 the accounts of a late number of the Irish Times, and indeed the 
 facts have been officially admitted, his corpse has been removed 
 from the vault in which he was originally laid, and taken to an- 
 other. The guardians of the burial-ground declare this to have 
 been done because the tomb had become 44 damp and fallen into 
 decay." The correspondent of the newspaper asserts, that this act 
 of cruel sacrilege was committed because the vault had been recently 
 sold to the present Lord Mayor of Dublin. If the latter statement 
 be correct, it reflects great discredit upon all parties concerned in it. 
 
A DAY IN LIMERICK. 
 
 273 
 
 address — while his extraordinary intelligence, his great 
 knowledge, and, above all, his sincere honesty of pur- 
 pose, for which, indeed, he had sacrificed his happiness, 
 fortune, station, and we might almost add his religion, so 
 commanded the admiration of all, that Tom, in poverty 
 and trouble, was still respected and liked by his equals, 
 and adored by the peasantry, over whom he had an 
 influence little short of that of the Great Agitator (or 
 as Steele termed him, the Great Liberator,) himself. 
 
 Our patriot friend approached us, and handed to me 
 the manuscript of a very clever, though wild article, he 
 had written for me to be inserted in a periodical {The 
 Limerick Chronicle) which I had started in that city, 
 and which, by-the-bye, was edited by that very clever 
 member of the Church who lost his. high position 
 
 in consequence of running away with Mrs. P 
 
 C . 
 
 Tom took a cup of coffee with us, and amused us by 
 relating some anecdotes, which he did in a most racy 
 style, though he modulated his voice (as was often the 
 case) to so low a tone that / lost much of the wit 
 mingled in their recital. 
 
 Presently, the great Dan himself entered, He was 
 to leave some directions with his lieutenant, and at the 
 same time receive the hearty thanks of his follower 
 for having got him out of some pecuniary difficulties 
 on the previous evening. These thanks the great man 
 put off with an affectionate smile, and only expressed 
 a hope that Tom would not get into any more scrapes 
 — a wish, alas ! most difficult of accomplishment, since 
 the Pacificator cared for no life but that of struggle — - 
 no food, but that of excitement. 
 
274 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN 1RISII POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 O'Cormell now came across toVokes, and shook him 
 heartily by the hand, and exhibited by his manner and 
 words not only his sincere friendship for the magistrate 
 as an individual, but his high appreciation of his 
 talents and his services as a public officer. I believe 
 most firmly — I have, indeed, strong proofs — that he 
 held my father-in-law in the very highest rank of his 
 estimation; and none could better judge, since in 
 public matters they were generally opposed. 
 
 Ottley now came in, and announced that the car- 
 riage was at the door in which he was to travel with 
 his political chief to Dublin. Tom Steele handed 
 O'Conuell into his carriage, and then went off to attend 
 a Mass at the Chapell, to be performed for the soul of 
 the late Eoman Catholic Bishop of Killaloe, an old 
 friend and ally of his. 
 
 When he had left us, I went across with Vokes to 
 his office, where he presented two of his constables 
 with 51. each, as a reward for their activity in captur- 
 ing the murderers of Major Hare. I inquired the 
 circumstances. It appeared that the gallant officer, 
 who had served for several years in the Light Dragoons 
 in India, had lately returned to Europe and taken a 
 very nice estate in the county of Limerick, named 
 " Fort Henry." Here, from his justice and kindness, 
 he would doubtlessly have become popular ; but un- 
 fortunately it became known that he had a large col- 
 lection of swords and fire-arms within his mansion. 
 This was a booty, of all others, the most coveted by 
 the Whiteboys, and so they determined on seizing 
 them. One night, when the Major had retired to his 
 bed — little suspecting an approaching danger — he was 
 
A DAY IN LIMERICK. 
 
 275 
 
 aroused by a loud and violent demand made on him 
 by the leader of a band of insurgents, who vociferously 
 demanded that all the weapons in the house should be 
 delivered up to him. The Major, a man of decided 
 courage, at once refused their request, and most 
 peremptorily desired the fellows — who were dressed in 
 the well-known costume of Whiteboys — instantly to 
 retire. To this, a shot fired at him, and from which 
 he narrowly escaped, was the reply he received. So, 
 arming his servants, he at once proceeded to barricade 
 the windows and doors of the house. But, unhappily, 
 it was too late. The ruffians had burst open the prin- 
 cipal entrance, and were now rushing towards the 
 apartment in which poor Hare and his wife slept. 
 
 He in vain endeavoured to oppose them. He was 
 at once massacred in the most savage manner. His 
 wife escaped by a mere miracle, and the murderers 
 having rifled the house, retired from the scene of their 
 bloodthirsty exploits, carrying with them all the arms 
 they could find. 
 
 After the most strenuous efforts, and under the direc- 
 tion of the active magistrate, the two policemen before 
 us had managed to get a clue whereby they were enabled 
 to trace the culprits ; this once gained, they pursued 
 them with unremitting vigilance, and at last managed 
 to seize the ringleader. This effected, many of the 
 others were easily detected, and the most prominent 
 actors in the bloody scene having been captured and 
 legally convicted, were taken out under a strong escort, 
 and executed close to the spot where the outrage had 
 been committed. This unusual measure had been re- 
 sorted to in the hc^pe of deterring others • but it had 
 
 18—2 
 
276 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 not the desired effect. The Whiteboys still traversed 
 the county in search of arms. Yokes, however, by his 
 untiring exertions, at last succeeded in putting them 
 down ; and by his recommendation the present reward 
 was bestowed on his two Peelers. 
 
 The next person to be brought in was one of the 
 most respectable small farmers in the county. He was 
 accused of committing a robbery. His friends had 
 besought Yokes to hear the case in private, as the 
 publicity would be most disgraceful. The Major, how- 
 ever, turned a deaf ear to their entreaties. His prin- 
 ciple was, that there was but one law alike for rich 
 and poor, nobles and peasants ; and in accordance with 
 this fair maxim he ordered the offender to be brought 
 down into the public office. But when, a few moments 
 later, a beautiful young woman fell on her knees be- 
 fore him, and assured him in agonizing terms that she 
 was the wife of the culprit, and that three young babes 
 would be ruined and disgraced by the exposure ; that 
 even if the case were proved, it would be found that 
 he had been wickedly led into it in a moment of in- 
 ebriation ; but, above all, that he supported by his own 
 personal exertions his aged parents — the heart of the 
 chief magistrate, ever awake to a tale of woe, was 
 touched, and the young man was privately examined. 
 What passed I know not ; but within half an hour the 
 supposed culprit was discharged, and his accusation 
 blotted from the charge-book. He had become so im- 
 plicated that a less lenient judge than my relative 
 might have committed him to prison, and perhaps have 
 destroyed for ever his prospects. But as he had been 
 rather morally than actually guilty, Yokes had let 
 
A DAY IN LIMERICK. 
 
 277 
 
 Lira off with a wholesome admonition. The reclaimed 
 young man subsequently became a poor-law officer, 
 and never forgot the lesson of mercy, which from him- 
 self he now extended to others around him. 
 
 As Yokes had business in the country, I mounted 
 my hack and cantered off to the Newcastle racecourse, 
 hard by, where a match for a large sum was to be 
 contended for. A racer belonging to an officer of the 
 garrison was backed to beat a celebrated hunter, the 
 winner of several similar feats. The military nag was 
 to be ridden by Capt. H. M., the best sporting rider in 
 the county, a gentleman highly and generally esteemed, 
 but a Protestant; tlie other belonged to Mr.^S., a 
 dashing young fellow, careless whether he broke his 
 neck or no, and a decided favourite with all the Catholic 
 party. At this time religious feud ran high, and just 
 as the gallant captain was mounting, he was warned 
 that an effort would be made to throw his horse down 
 on his attempting to leap the third wall, which had 
 been agreed to be four feet high, built of loose stones. 
 The gallant captain (or Widow, as I believe he was usually 
 called), with the true spirit of his countrymen, spurned 
 the notice, and jumping up, away they went. Over 
 the first fence they passed well — nothing impeded their 
 progress ; but as the captain gained a little on his 
 opponent the crowd rushed forward, and as Mr. S. 
 came up to the wall, actually pulled it down to let him 
 go over without jumping. And now all eyes were 
 fixed on the result of the last leap ; it was too late to in- 
 terfere, and the spectators looked on in anxious dismay. 
 As they approached it, a shout was heard on the 
 other side — the wicked wretches were already there — 
 
278 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 a cheer — a struggle was heard, as they rode up neck 
 and neck — a groan burst involuntarily from many a 
 lip as they together sprang over the bulwark which 
 shut them out from view. For a moment the most 
 fearful doubts were entertained, and we followed them 
 at full speed. But here, all our cares and fears were 
 at once dissipated ; there stood both gentlemen besides 
 their animals ; Major Yokes was conversing with 
 them, while at about one hundred yards distance 
 stood a body of police, and in their hands a dozen 
 of stout peasants. The whole scene was at once ex- 
 plained. The magistrate, who was aware of all pass- 
 ing, had received information of the intended outrage ; 
 without noise or fuss, he had marched a proper force 
 to the spot and arrested the villains who were already 
 awaiting to destroy their victim. Fortunately, how- 
 ever, no harm was done, no overt act was committed, so 
 having shown them they could not break the laws 
 with impunity, the Major at once discharged them, 
 having already established in their hearts a wholsome 
 dread of his prescience and his power. 
 
 On my return to the city I found a military band 
 playing in the Crescent, while over the adjacent pave- 
 ment I saw a galaxy of beauty promenading — a bright 
 bouquet of loveliness, never since surpassed. The 
 
 beautiful Miss F s, daughter of a noble house ; the 
 
 Miss B.s, of Clare (nieces of a gentleman afterwards 
 savagely murdered), lovely beyond description ; the 
 dashing and admired Miss S. D., the daughter of our 
 general ; the pretty Miss S. ; pert little Betsy, and 
 fascinating Julia, together with a dozen other girls 
 who could elsewhere have passed for first-rate beauties, 
 
A DAY IN LIMERICK. 
 
 279 
 
 and a select knot of some heavenly looking young mar- 
 ried women, made up the female characters of the de- 
 lightful and striking picture ; while a host of dashing 
 young officers and sporting young men from the 
 country paid them well-deserved attentions. 
 
 Presently I heard that there was a disturbance 
 taking place at the other end of George- street, so I 
 hastened thither to see what was the matter. The 
 whole town appeared to have assembled here, and 
 loudly screamed forth their anger and annoyance ; 
 while magistrates and policemen hurried backwards 
 and forwards, and every one seemed excited, though 
 few really knew what it was about. 
 
 I soon learnt the particulars. It appeared that a 
 society or band of gentlemen, styling themselves 
 " Brunswickers," had assembled to discuss their ex- 
 treme political views at Swinburn's Hotel — now no 
 longer in existence — and that during the time they 
 were thus debating, some ill-judged member had fool- 
 ishly indulged in bitter invectives against the liberal 
 party, and spoken harshly of O'Connell. This had 
 been carried out to the party in question, and Tom 
 Steele, as their self-elected leader, had mounted on an 
 empty cart, and was in the act of pouring out the 
 most inflammatory address in terms somewhat treason- 
 able to the Government and the King, mingled with 
 words of the most dire abuse against the whole body 
 of Irish Orangemen, when Capt. J. (the then mayor), 
 followed by only four of his attendants, rushed up and 
 seized the orator, and bore him off. To force him 
 through the crowd to the court-house would have been 
 impossible, so the plucky ex-captain of dragoons con- 
 
2S0 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 tented himself with lodging him safely at Moriarty's 
 Ilotel till the arrival of Vokes and his police, or if 
 necessary a military force — for that functionary was in 
 command of the city forces as well as those* of the 
 county. This was most fortunate, for I do sincerely 
 believe that the rash act of the daring civic func- 
 tionary might have ended seriously had not my relative 
 arrived on the spot, and for the second time since the 
 morning poured oil on the raging waters. How the 
 thing was managed I know not, but within an hour 
 afterwards Tom was again haranguing the delighted 
 crowd, in a for less excited tone than he had hitherto 
 nsed, while throughout his whole speech he never once 
 alluded to his capture. The people had got their 
 pet back again, they cheered loudly, and asked no 
 questions. 
 
 At five we had a most excellent dinner, that early 
 hour being fixed upon as one of our garrison theatrical 
 representations were to take place at the* theatre. Our 
 corps was most numerous, consisting of some thirty or 
 forty officers, quartered in and about Limerick. Indeed, 
 some came (Lord A. Hill amongst the number) all the 
 way from Cork to share our festivities. Captain Scan- 
 Ion was my brother manager. Our actresses were 
 professional ladies«froni Dublin. 
 
 During our meal we were disturbed by the entrance 
 
 of Mr. L . He came in in great trepidation. 
 
 Yokes had informed him, in a confidential letter, that 
 a conspiracy had been formed to assassinate him. But 
 as he had a clue to the whole affair, the threatened 
 gentleman need not be alarmed ; he was well cared 
 for. My friend the Major was annoyed at the com- 
 munication being made public, as he declared that such 
 
A DAY IN LIMERICK, 281 
 
 exposures led to fresh crimes, and often defeated the 
 ends of justice.""" 
 
 My timid friend got rid of, I at once started for the 
 theatre, and certainly 1 never sate a more brilliant 
 sight. Not having to play in the first piece, I amused 
 myself by looking over the theatre and doing the 
 honours to the company as they arrived. I must con- 
 fess I felt proud of my position. I was certainly at 
 the head of one of the most elegant specimens of thea- 
 trical entertainment I had ever witnessed. 
 
 The pit and boxes, beautifully painted and deco- 
 rated by an officer of the Springers (62nd Foot) ; the 
 * This does not appear to be the case at the present time, as 
 every threatening letter is published in the newspapers. A few 
 days before th 3 publication of this work at least a dozen appeared 
 in the journals, particularly one stated to have been communicated 
 by the Government to Mr. Coates, a gentleman, a land-agent, highly 
 respected in Ireland ; while it was added in the same paragraph 
 that the authorities had given directions that Mr. Coates should be 
 accompanied and looked after by police, wherever he went, when- 
 ever he stirred out. Tbis was followed by the following paragraph 
 given m the Irish Times, of the 26th August, 1862. We give it to 
 show the great change in the system which has taken place within 
 the last twenty years. 
 
 X " r TH z t LLEGED WAHNIKG to Coates.-As already stated in 
 the Irish Times, a rumour has been current that Mr. Abraham 
 Coates, of Ballycarbry, agent over the Cliften estates, a few days 
 since received intimation from the Government that his life was in 
 danger, a plot having been formed to take his life. It is further 
 asserted by a local print that the room in Gowran Castle in which 
 Mr. Coates was to sleep on the night of the apprehended attack was 
 marked, arrangements having been made for opening the sash 
 outside! It is also said the attempt was happily frustrated by 
 the activity of Mr. W. Rowney, S.L, who supplied the information 
 in time to the authorities, which was the means of saving Mr. Coates's 
 life. It is certainly a strange phase of the affair, with such a clue 
 that the guilty parties were not at once arrested and made ame- 
 nable to the law." 
 
282 RECOLLECTIONS OP AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 benches covered with crimson cloth throughout ; the 
 
 drop-scene produced by Captain M ; a full military 
 
 band in the orchestra ; a blaze of wax-lights illumi- 
 nating the lovely girls as they sprang to their places, 
 assisted by well-dressed officers (for uniforms in those 
 days were really becoming), while their mature and 
 aristocratic chaperons followed them, led in by men 
 such as Heff and Giles, and others, whose type are, 
 alas ! fast passing away. Such a sight was decidedly 
 cheering, and at once called forth the encomiums of 
 the elderly ladies, and the bright smiles which ex- 
 posed the lovely teeth of the younger portion of the 
 audience. 
 
 To describe the performance itself would be a work 
 of supererogation; suffice to say, that it went off most 
 pleasantly, and we all retired well pleased with the 
 result of our exertions, and with smiles started off for 
 
 the house of one of our best actors, Ralph J , one 
 
 of the most strange characters in all Ireland, where we 
 had been invited to supper. 
 
 Here we were shown into a small room with an un- 
 carpeted floor. Oaken chairs were placed around a 
 deal table — whether meant as more expressive of a 
 hospitable board than any other, I am wholly unable 
 to say. 
 
 At one end a large tub of live oysters was placed ; 
 at the other, the same fish stewed ; on one side was a 
 dish of toasted cheese, on the other a plate of red her- 
 rings. In the centre stood, supported by trestles, a 
 small cask of whisky ; while on dumb-waiters were to 
 be found hot and cold water, lemons, sugar, enormous 
 tumblers, punch-ladles, and several coopers of delicious 
 
A DAY IN LIMERICK. 283 
 
 claret. A blind piper sat in the corner; one of the 
 
 -nd o T Wait6d ° n " S iQ iis --let dress 
 
 aUd 0n evei T conclusion of an air by th» piper J 
 us with a view halloa ! 7 P P ' fd '° Ured 
 
 Kalph was the best singer) dedded 
 
 most amusmg companions that ever was known in 
 
 ST! W Th ^ d 1 1 b6W ' " 
 nor fill 7 , f TOS n0 SitUati0Q in life ««t ^ had 
 
 when the a T ^ ** ^ M «- «"5f 
 when the sporting amusements closed, in order to 
 
 erve through every phase in life. I n eve y ^ ^ 
 learnt something, he had gleaned -o»ehoi y ,tS 
 brough home to his hive of anecdote, and above" 
 he had earnt how to collect around him the brlhtes 
 and best sprits of the neighbourhood. Need I tb en 
 add how tru,y I enjoyed myself, and how SLctan 2 
 I was forced to admit that I saw th, * llctantl 7 
 
284 
 
 DANGEROUS AFFINITY. 
 
 Oxe of the most exciting spots, not only to the eye, 
 but to every thrilling sense of a piscatorial sportsman 
 in Ireland, is the (i Salmon Leap" at Castle Connell, 
 some eight miles from the City of Limerick. Here 
 the noble Shannon, bordered on either side by orna- 
 mental parks, rapidly dashes through its rocky bed, at 
 the rate of eight or ten miles an hour, throwing up its 
 silver spray amidst the sunbeams overhead, which tint 
 them with the sparkling beauties of the most brilliant 
 gems. Fine old trees dip their leaves in the bounding 
 stream, and shed their umbrage over the salmon which 
 here abound. Here, seated at one end of a shallow 
 canoe, fishing-rod in hand, the anxious angler stands 
 at one end of his long punt, intent alone on the pursuit 
 of his game ; while the professional boatman, armed 
 with a pole and paddle, continually uses his every 
 skill and exertion, to guide and steady the frail vessel, 
 which only for a moment left to its own course, would 
 be dashed to pieces on the rocks, or drawn beneath the 
 foaming waters. Thus, then, there is that fair share 
 of danger in the amusement which alone gives zest 
 to sport, which demands that constant care and acti- 
 
DANGEROUS AFFINITY. 
 
 285 
 
 vity that may fairly be styled the salt of sporting 
 life* 
 
 It was to Castle Connell, then, that I now turned my 
 footsteps, or rather those of my horse, who trotted cheer- 
 fully along, enjoying the occasional sharp nip inflicted by 
 the cool breeze of an early day in spring. My tackle had 
 been sent on, also a basket of provisions, as I had pro- 
 mised to visit the old ruins of the castle, battered down 
 by Ireton (I believe) during the Irish invasion, the 
 outward walls of which still, however, tower in solemn 
 grandeur, laughing alike at the blasts of winter and 
 the summer storm, forming one of the most picturesque 
 objects which embellish this truly beautiful spot. Yes, 
 amid these stately ruins, if permitted by the baronet's 
 steward to do so, I was to share my pigeon pie with 
 
 Lord G , the most polished and fascinating man of 
 
 his day, and the no less admired Kate F , the 
 
 adored of all adorers — the most perfect specimen of 
 a lovely Irishwoman even that highly favoured nation 
 could boast of having produced. I also made arrange- 
 ments to dine at a friend's in the neighbourhood and 
 sleep in Castle Connell, as I had made up my mind to 
 attend a horse fair to be held at Bird's Hill next day. 
 
 All these plans I carried out to my own entire satis- 
 faction. I had pic -nicked with my noble friend and his 
 charming companion. I had dug up an old ring in 
 the ruins, which I then believed to have once been 
 the property of an Irish chief, but which subsequently 
 
 * It was on this spot that the Honourable Mrs. Massey, a few 
 years ago, was drowned, with her servant and boatman, while 
 crossing the river for the purpose of dining with her relative, Sir 
 Ilugh D. Massey, of Poonas. 
 
286 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 I discovered to be the fraction of an old worn out cart 
 
 harness. I had sat, or rather stood up, in my canoe 
 for nearly three hours, and with great difficulty (and 
 I must add, with the assistance of my boatman also) 
 hooked, gaffed, and landed, two fine salmon. I had 
 taken a late dinner with my country friend, and now- 
 had returned to my little modest hostel. I had 
 grasped my night candle with the intention of retiring 
 to bed, when I was startled by the sound of the ap- 
 proaching steps of a horse. These ceased at the door 
 of my hotel, and presently I heard some one enter. 
 
 The next moment, in marched my worthy father-in- 
 law. 
 
 " Good gracious !" cried I ; " what could have in- 
 duced you to ride down here alone at such an hour 1" 
 " I wanted to see you." 
 
 " Indeed ! But why come down unaccompanied 1" 
 " I was safer alone. There's a nasty, long lane, with* 
 a dead wall fencing, in Lord Clare's park. If they 
 knew I was coming, even with an escort, our numbers 
 couldn't save us. They could easily destroy us ; and 
 so I sent a patrol out, on the Clare road, to mislead 
 them, and then rode down here by myself to see 
 
 you." 
 
 " But why r 
 
 "I'll tell you. You must not go to Bird's Hill 
 fair to-morrow." 
 
 " Indeed ! May I ask the reason f 
 
 u Because, if you do, you'll probably be shot." 
 
 « And why f 
 
 " Ah, now, why are you so opaque F 
 
 "I never injured any one. I never interfere iu rc- 
 
DANGEROUS AFFINITY. 
 
 287 
 
 ligion, or politics. Why, then, should they shoot 
 mef 
 
 " Simply because you are my son-in-law." 
 
 " Bless me ! that's very disagreeable ; I never 
 thought of that." 
 
 u And now, my dear Henry, let me give you another 
 little bit of advice. You are really very foolish. I 
 saw you through this open window all the way as I 
 came through the village. You really should shut the 
 shutters." 
 
 u Again, may I ask why V 
 
 " Simply on account of the danger of being shot as 
 you sit in your chair." 
 
 " You must be joking. Why should the quiet inha- 
 bitants of this peaceable hamlet wish to destroy me P 
 
 " Merely for the simple reason that I afforded you 
 just now." 
 
 " Upon my life P muttered I ; " I never before had 
 any idea of the pleasing privileges attached to the 
 honour of being wedded to the daughter of a police 
 magistrate," 
 
 " What do you mean P 
 
 " Not that I regret ; on the contrary, I glory in being 
 the happy husband of your lovely and excellent daugh- 
 ter. But, upon my honour, I have not the slightest 
 wish to claim a pistol-ball as her dower f 
 
 " NahocMish a vfch ! Every bullet has its billet, 
 and we shall yet die snugly in our beds. But I must 
 be off again." 
 
 "What, alone P 
 
 " Decidedly." 
 
288 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " Decidedly not" said I. " I accompany you back, 
 or you don't stir." 
 
 The magistrate remonstrated, but in vain ; and 
 away we went together — the bargain being duly made 
 between U3. The terms were these : on condition that I 
 gave up the fair at Bird's Hill, Vokes was good enough 
 to allow me to escort him home. Perhaps for the 
 benefit of both parties, the agreement was carried 
 out. 
 
289 
 
 THE SHERIFF'S SEIZURE. 
 
 Vokes and I were travelling between Nenagh and 
 Maryborough, when who should step into the night 
 
 mail but Mr. , the sub-sheriff of Queen s County, 
 
 a gentleman for whom the Major had a very high 
 respect, one who, though young, had on more than one 
 occasion caused the law to be respected during the 
 short period he had been in office. The usual greetings 
 over, my relative asked him, as a matter of conversa- 
 tion, what he was doing in that part of the country. 
 
 " I've just escaped from a somewhat perilous 
 position." 
 
 " Indeed ; were you attacked V 
 
 " Far from it ; it was a danger of my own seeking 
 — a danger I incurred through ignorance on my part, 
 and ill-timed zeal on the part of my assistant, who 
 has just been carried off to hospital." 
 
 " Oh, pray tell us all about it," said I ; "do tell us. 
 It will wile away the night hours." Yokes backed 
 up my request, and our official friend at once assented, 
 and thus began : — 
 
 " You may have heard of Captain H , usually 
 
 styled ' the Reel use of the Mountain.' If you have 
 
 ever read the celebrated memoirs of Sir J. B t , you 
 
 19 
 
290 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN" IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 will be able to judge of this strange being from an 
 anecdote which that well-known writer relates of 
 him." 
 
 We pleaded ignorance of the allusion, and asked the 
 present narrator to supply it. He thus gave it : — 
 
 "Captain H , disgusted with society, or for 
 
 other reasons, chose, some years ago, to retire from the 
 busy world and take up his residence on the summit 
 of a very high mountain which divides the Queen's 
 County from that of Tipperary. Here he had a snug, 
 but isolated, residence built. And here, 
 
 " The world forgetting, by the world forgot," 
 
 he amused himself with agriculture and the sports 
 of the field, seldom or never straying beyond the limits 
 of his mountain throne. 
 
 " A near relative of the popular Irish author, it ap- 
 pears, had a strange desire to shoot grouse on the aerial 
 estate of the recluse, and with this object wrote to him, 
 requesting permission to do so As might reasonably 
 have been expected, no reply was vouchsafed to his 
 missive ; so one fine morning, without further cere- 
 mony, the proposed sportsman ascended the almost 
 inaccessible height, and began to pepper away amongst 
 the birds. The report of his fowling-piece aroused the 
 " man of the mountain," who, in dire anger, jumped 
 out of bed, and in a few minutes confronted the 
 intruder. 
 
 "The greater number of our sex would have felt 
 alarmed by the appearance of the misanthrope. He 
 was above six feet two in height, and very powerful in 
 proportion. His eyes glared wildly, and his right fiat 
 
THE SHERIFF'S SEIZURE. 
 
 291 
 
 was clasped in passion — his left hand carried a gun 
 — his whole appearance denoted violent anger. 
 
 " ' What are you doing here, sir V roared he in sten- 
 torian tones. 1 What are you doing here ? ' 
 
 " 'I came to enjoy a day's sport.' 
 
 " ' And who the deuce gave you leave to do so ? ' 
 
 " 1 I came without.' 
 
 " 1 How dare you poach on my property ? I'll teach 
 you better manners. Ah ! there is your dog making 
 a point. By Heaven ! if you don't instantly call him 
 off, I'll shoot him ! ' 
 
 " 6 If you do so, I'll shoot you ! 1 
 
 " 1 Will you, indeed 1 Then here goes ! ' and he 
 instantly pointed his gun, and the next moment the 
 poor animal (a valuable one) rolled over severely 
 wounded. 
 
 " ' I never break my word,' calmly retorted the 
 sportsman, and in another moment he had lodged a 
 full charge of shot in the left arm and in the side of 
 Capt. H . 
 
 "Wounded and in pain, the now infuriated recluse 
 sprang upon his antagonist, and a hand-to-hand con- 
 flict took place, during which the proprietor of the dog- 
 got a most severe mauling; indeed, I cannot now 
 remember whether they did not both use their second 
 barrels, and I believe with painful effect on the cap- 
 tain. But be that as it may, the lord of the rocky 
 soil, maimed as he was, seized the plucky poacher in 
 his arms and bore him down to Durrow, a v 
 three miles off, and there left Mr. B. in charge of the 
 local magistrate. Such is the sketch given by Sir 
 J. B , if my memory does not fail me. 
 
 19—2 
 
292 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 " And was no notice taken of it ?" asked I. 
 
 " None. In that part of the country it was looked 
 upon as a fair (though strange) duel, and the unlucky 
 grouse-shooter, instead of being pitied, was only con- 
 gratulated on* his miraculous escape from the most 
 dreaded character in the whole county." 
 
 " He must, indeed, have been fear-inspiring.' ' 
 
 " Aye, and if I am rightly informed, he has proved 
 his prowess even since the event I have spoken 
 of, by beating off, single-handed, ten or a dozen White- 
 boys who came to seek for arms, and after killing one, 
 and wounding several of them, he, alone and unaided, 
 dragged into the nearest town the chief of the band, 
 a man celebrated for his athletic powers, and lodged 
 the fellow in the county gaol, although nothing would 
 afterwards induce hira to take the trouble of appear- 
 ing against him." 
 
 " I have heard of the occurrence," chimed in Yokes ; 
 " but what has this to do with your present visit ?" 
 
 " Everything ! It unfortunately happened that the 
 very first execution put into my hands was one against 
 the ' Recluse of the Mountain.' As is usual in treating 
 with a gentleman, I wrote to him in the first instance, 
 and informed him of the unpleasant duty that had been 
 thrust on me. He took no notice of my letter. I 
 then made application for payment in a more peremp- 
 tory tone. He now answered, and set me at defiance : 
 1 He had not got the money ; and if he had he would 
 not pay it — he equally laughed at the law herself and 
 her base myrmidons.' One only course remained open 
 to me ; I at once determined on personally serving 
 him with the document, and, if possible, seizing his 
 
THE SHERIFF'S SEIZURE. 
 
 293 
 
 goods, for, to tell you the truth, I had no anxiety 
 whatever to meddle with his person. 
 
 " On a former occasion, when danger had threatened 
 us, my Irish assistant had run away and left me ; so 
 on the present I picked out a sturdy old English pen- 
 sioner named Hoskins, whose bull-dog courage nothing 
 could overcome. 
 
 "Accompanied by my aid, I quietly, and without 
 mentioning my intention to anyone, came down to this 
 neighbourhood, and having slept at the house of a 
 friend, I left at daybreak under some fanciful excuse, 
 and with Hoskins trudged up the mountain. 
 
 " Although we arrived early at our destination, the 
 bird had already flown. The house was perfectly 
 empty ; but we were amply consoled for this circum- 
 stance by seeing some twenty or thirty fine cows 
 grazing on the land around the cottage ; these would 
 indeed repay us for our trouble, and satisfy the claim 
 we came to enforce. Our only chagrin was that we 
 had not brought proper drivers with us in order at 
 once to remove them, and we were actually debat- 
 ing whether we should not return and obtain this 
 necessary assistance previous to making our seizure, 
 when several countrymen approached us. These 
 men we thought might easily be tempted to turn 
 drovers for the nonce — a proceeding which would 
 not only save time, but money; so we at once ad- 
 dressed ourselves to them. To our consternation 
 we discovered that these mountaineers did not speak 
 a word of English, and, alas ! we were equally ignorant 
 of Irish ; so we tried as well as we could to make 
 them understand our wishes by signs. They also 
 
294 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 plunged into personal hieroglyphics, but neither side 
 could convey their meaning to the other, while both 
 seemed irritated at the supposed stupidity of the oppo- 
 site party. An old woman was dragged forward, but 
 her attempt at our language was decidedly Gaelic ; an 
 old man present, I believe, from the few words he 
 uttered, could speak English tolerably well, but he was 
 stone deaf ; and though he could occasionally cop- 
 vey to us his meaning, in spite of a fearful stammer, 
 he could not hear a single word we said. So we 
 somewhat cavalierly dismissed him to the shades below. 
 
 " Matters now began to grow serious ; we had tasted 
 no food, and like all hungry men, felt cross. The 
 peasants roared and bawled at us, making signs first at 
 the cows and then at themselves, which we interpreted 
 to mean that they desired to take charge of the ani- 
 mals for us, and to this proposition we nodded an 
 assent. Eut still they did not appear content, 
 and as their number was now considerable, I thought 
 it better to proceed to business at once, and so told 
 Hoskins. He quite agreed with me, and stepped across 
 to make the first seizure. In conformity with the 
 rule, he first produced his authority, and then pro- 
 ceeded to lay hold of one of the cows. No sooner had 
 he done this, than he was levelled by a blow from a 
 stout bludgeon, while a general cheer of approbation, 
 and a contraction of the circle which surrounded 
 me, showed me that I must now be prepared for the 
 worst. I felt in my pocket for a small pistol I always 
 carried about me, and had just made up my mind to 
 sell my life dearly, when I heard a loud shouting in 
 h distance, and saw a towering figure on horse- 
 
THE SHERIFF'S SEIZURE. 
 
 295 
 
 back galloping at full speed towards ine, roaring to 
 the peasants in Irish, at least so I supposed, to desist. 
 There was a lull for a moment, and he dashed in 
 amongst us, and jumped from his horse. 
 
 " 6 Who the devil are you, sir V was his courteous 
 way of questioning me. 
 
 " ' I am the sub-sheriff of this county.' 
 
 " 6 What did you come here to do V 
 
 execute the law ! Here is my authority/ 
 
 " No sooner did the excited bystanders see the docu- 
 ment, than they again pressed forward ; the captain, for 
 now I felt certain it was he, waved them back with 
 some difficulty. 
 
 " ( And what did you hope to do V 
 
 " 'I have already seized all the cattle around, and 
 only await proper drivers to convey them away. In 
 the execution of his duty, my assistant has been struck 
 and injured by these uncouth savages. But they shall 
 pay dearly for it.' 
 
 " 6 Fool that you are ! It is lucky they don't under- 
 stand you. It is you that are acting illegally. Know 
 to your cost that not one of those animals belongs to 
 me. Though they graze here, they are bond fide the 
 property of these men. You must instantly give them 
 
 up; 
 
 " ? I shall not do so willingly, even though it cost me 
 my life, till you give me security for your debt.' 
 
 " ' Well,' returned the recluse, 'you are brave even 
 to rashness, almost to fool-hardihood. But I admire 
 courage ; it's the only thing I worship. A man of 
 your spirit must not be wantonly sacrificed. Come,' 
 said he, dragging me in ; i come in, and I'll try and 
 
296 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 satisfy you/ He then turned to the excited by- 
 standers, and apparently begged of them to be patient 
 for a few minutes. 
 
 " In the meantime he led me into what he styled his 
 parlour, I should have described it as his armoury, 
 where weapons of every kind were neatly displayed, 
 intermingled with every sort of fishing-rod, saddle, 
 bridle, and cudgel, that I believe ever had been in- 
 vented. 
 
 " * And now, sir, what do you want V 
 " 1 Money/ 
 
 * 1 1 have none. But as I never broke my word in 
 my life, will you take my promissory notes for 
 the amount payable in four, eight, and twelve 
 months V 
 
 " 1 1 will/ unhesitatingly replied I. 1 I thus make 
 myself personally responsible for the debt ; but from 
 what I've seen of you, I have no fear of your mislead- 
 ing me.' 
 
 " 'I never deceived the man that trusted me in my 
 life. As an official, you may perhaps happen to have 
 some stamps about you V 
 
 "<I have.' 
 
 ' " Give them to me !' He filled them up, and re- 
 turned them. 1 Will they do V 
 
 " 1 Perfectly. Good-bye and I rose to depart. 
 
 "'Xot so,' cried the captain, laughing ; \ only leave 
 this room without me, show yourself alone, and you 
 are a dead man.' 
 
 "I started at the announcement. 
 
 " 1 I'll soon settle this,' added he, and he went out 
 with me and addressed the people, while I endeavoured 
 
THE SHERIFF'S SEIZURE. 
 
 297 
 
 to express to them that I had no claims on their cattle. 
 The men seemed somewhat disappointed at losing their 
 chance of skinning me, and turned sullenly away. I 
 pointed out to my now good friend (for indeed £e had 
 proved himself such) the prostrate form of my assistant. 
 He instantly ordered two of the fellows to lift him up, 
 and carry him down the mountain ; all, however,refused. 
 In an instant, the captain's eyes flashed fire, and the 
 man he addressed fell stunned beneath the weight 
 of his heavy hand. The other instantly sprang to- 
 wards the injured Englishman, and, with the help 
 of a comrade, lifted him up, and, in company with 
 the captain and myself, bore him down to the 
 village. 
 
 " I would fain have spared H the trouble of ac- 
 companying me, but he assured me it was absolutely 
 necessary. 
 
 "When he parted from me he extended his hand, and 
 taking my comparatively diminutive member in his 
 powerful grasp, he thus addressed me : — ' Good-bye, 
 sheriff ; you are a plucky little fellow — your courage 
 saved you ; but never try such an experiment again. 
 If tired of life at any time, and you desire to avoid 
 self-destruction, return to this mountain and make 
 yourself known. You will cease to exist in five 
 minutes. I have saved you once. I have not influ- 
 ence to save you a second time, so pray to the 
 Lord never again to see, ' the Recluse of the Moun- 
 tain.' 
 
 " He then left me, and I remained at the inn (having 
 seen poor Hoskins well stowed away in the hospital) till 
 this carriage, in which I propose to travel to Dublin, 
 
298 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 passed. I have fortunately found pleasant companions, 
 and thank you for listening to my long tale." . 
 
 We soon arrived, and got out. But afterwards, 
 when Quartered in the Irish capital, I met the worthy 
 sub-sheriff, who assured me that the bills he had taken 
 from the "Hermit Captain " had each been duly 
 honoured and paid to the moment. 
 
299 
 
 FINAL WOED ON IEELANB. 
 
 Of all the revolutions which have taken place within 
 the memory of man, none can exceed the bloodless 
 revolution which within the last quarter of a cen- 
 tury has changed the social condition of Ireland 
 — the habits of her people. The same fertile soil, the 
 same splendid scenery, the same natural advantages 
 of lake, river, and forest, still, and must ever exist, but 
 her people are no longer the people of whose reckless 
 bravery, and improvident hospitality we read in works 
 written some thirty years ago. They are no longer 
 the impulsive, witty, hard-drinking, rollicking boys of 
 Charles Lever's pages. By slow, but sure degrees, they 
 have undergone a change like that of the chrysalis grub, 
 as it shakes off its ignoble form and soars a brilliant but- 
 terfly. By this comparison, however, I do not intend to 
 convey the idea of the vast superiority in every respect 
 which the modern Irishman may now boast over his 
 progenitor ; for although in many instances his cha- 
 racter has much improved, there are certain points 
 which in thus rendering him more prudent, more sober, 
 and more frugal, have altogether cooled that warmth of 
 
300 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 heart which once formed the amiable weakness of 
 Erin's children. 
 
 Our sketches may perhaps seem designed as an exagge- 
 rated illustration of the bloodthirsty propensities which 
 once led the Irish peasantry into crime, and disgraced 
 by its atrocity this lovely island, and, indeed, they rather 
 ponrtray these than affect to be a personal memoir. But 
 we beg to assure our readers that we have in many 
 instances, particularly in those of Major Going, Blood, 
 Hoskins, and a host of others, avoided bringing into pro- 
 minence many of the most savage murders which took 
 place at the period when this little work is supposed 
 to chronicle the stirring incidents which occurred in 
 the South of Ireland. 
 
 A check was decidedly put on these fear-inspiring 
 acts, the organization of crime was almost entirely de- 
 stroyed, the links of horror were broken, in no small 
 degree by T. P. Yokes, aided by the intelligent co-ope- 
 ration of his brother magistrates, acting unanimously 
 on a system laid down and carried out during a series of 
 years by the chief magistrate of police. I have there- 
 fore thought it but fair, now, when crime again raises 
 her head, and assassination immolates her victims in 
 broad daylight, to recount some of those means which 
 at a former period threw a protecting shield over the 
 landowner, and carried terror to the bosom of the 
 murder-seeking tenant. 
 
 The fearful deeds which were then enacted most 
 generally arose from differences in religious creed or 
 political action. The Catholic, still under penalties 
 which bound him down by unfair fetters, and deprived 
 him of all right to worship his Creator in his own way, 
 
FINAL WORD ON IRELAND. 
 
 301 
 
 was an ever ready subject of discontent ; while the mani- 
 fest difference between the laws introduced to propitiate 
 the English, and to grind down the Irish (at least so 
 they were t aught by interested demagogues), still further 
 irritated the then impetuous peasantry of Ireland. 
 
 In the days I speak of, the kind-hearted landed 
 gentry of the sister country knew no bounds to their 
 hospitality and expenditure. It is true that they 
 seldom received any rent, but they seldom asked for 
 it. Meat was reared on their lands. Every article of 
 life was prepared on their estate. "Whisky was dis- 
 tilled in their mountain fastnesses, and woe betide 
 the lawyer or the bailiff, even when supported by 
 the posse of the sheriff, or a troop of dragoons, who 
 dared to attack the lord of the soil. The castle doors 
 were closed. Every tenant mounted guard, and the 
 besiegers were fain to return as they came ; though 
 the commanders — both military and civil — often re- 
 turned to dine with the "jolly defaulter," who loved 
 them as guests beneath his roof — who laughed them 
 to scorn as besiegers before his walls. Yes, such were 
 the manners of the olden time — the halcyon days of 
 Ireland. The county member could always give you 
 twenty good horses, and a dozen postboys, to draw you 
 from his seat, to the seat of Government. But he 
 could seldom lend you 51. to pay for your place inside 
 the mail coach. A cask of claret, or of whisky, has 
 often been tapped on the dinner table, when the neigh- 
 bouring grocer refused to give tick for a bottle of 
 ginger wine. Troja fait — Ireland was! 
 
 But how different now is the state of the sister isle. 
 Qauses and effects have completely changed her. Her 
 
302 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. . 
 
 peasantry and her landholders have equally shared in 
 this wonderful transformation — a transformation so 
 general that I will defy any one now to find a single 
 member of the old stock left. Father Mathew 
 compelled, by his eloquent reasoning, the lower classes 
 to become sober. The Encumbered Estate Act com- 
 pelled by its enactments the gentry to be prudent. 
 And in both cases, as in every newly-inducted fashion, 
 the disciples have decidedly gone far beyond the most 
 sanguine anticipations of the original intention. 
 
 Wit and jollity were banished from amidst the lower 
 classes by the moral preacher. Hospitality and 
 generosity have fled before the Act of Parliament. 
 
 The consequences of this strange and sudden revolu- 
 tion should, and will, decidedly bring prosperity to the 
 Green Island. The higher orders, who have not had 
 their estates sold in spite of their wish, reside, gener- 
 ally speaking, on their lands, and do much good by 
 their presence. The commercial community are de- 
 cidedly extending their adventures ; and many, many 
 men may be now seen moving in Dublin society, or 
 ruling the monetary transactions of the Irish capital 
 by their great wealth, who entered that city some five- 
 and-twenty years previously little better than paupers. 
 Building houses, and purchasing lands, forming banks, 
 and carrying out stockbroking operations, railway con- 
 tracts, and cattle dealing — have all, and every one, 
 created capital, and transformed many very poor men 
 into merchant princes — humble shopkeepers into fre- 
 quenters of the Viceregal Court. m 
 
 Nor has the change been less marked amidst the 
 labouring population of the country. A difference of 
 
FINAL WORD ON IRELAND. 
 
 303 
 
 religious creed is no longer a bar to friendship. The 
 Catholic and the Protestant now boast equal laws and 
 privileges. The priesthood of the former church, now 
 highly educated in colleges, feel that they have a stake 
 in the country, and an interest, human and divine, in 
 preserving peace amongst all Christians. The conse- 
 quence is obvious. Religious assassination, once so 
 prevalent, is now unheard of, while daily assimilating 
 laws (assimilating with those of Great Britain) and 
 relief from heavy taxation, have drawn out that bitter 
 sting which parties opposed in politics, once loved to 
 inflict on each other. 
 
 The dirty mud cabin is quietly giving way to the 
 small whitewashed farm. The dunghill has been re- 
 moved from the front door, to the rear. The smoke 
 goes up a well-formed chimney, and the pigs and 
 poultry are gradually being banished from the inside 
 of the house. The daily meal amongst the labouring 
 classes is still potatoes — nothing but potatoes — but they 
 are eaten with calm content, and crowned by the 
 luxury of a pipe. The tiller of the soil is allowed a 
 proper period thus to partake with his family of his 
 homely food, and at night he now returns to his more 
 comfortable cottage, rather than create a riot in the 
 neighbouring shabeen, or plot murders, and indulge in 
 irritating argument beside the smithy's brilliant fire as 
 in former years. 
 
 The money of the small farmer, once spent on 
 whisky, or shared amongst convivial comrades, is now 
 hoarded up, and it would indeed be a useless task in 
 the present day to attempt to coax a well-to-do agricul- 
 turist out of his cash. He lives frugally — he drinks 
 
304 RECOLLECTIONS OF AN IRISH POLICE MAGISTRATE. 
 
 water — he works hard, and he now places in a bank 
 (an establishment he formerly abhorred) the hard 
 earnings which have rewarded his toil. 
 
 Such is Ireland in 1862. A happy state, that she is 
 likely yearly to improve, unless she once more gives 
 way to crime. Unfortunately, however, the most 
 cruel and wanton murders have lately stained her soil. 
 Unmanly threats have been used, and the firm basis 
 of social comfort between landlord and tenant shaken 
 by agrarian outrage. 
 
 Experienced and well-trained magistrates were never 
 more earnestly required than they are at this instant. 
 The efficiency (or otherwise) of the present police 
 system should be inquired into. Nearly 13,000 in 
 number, largely officered, presided over by some 200 
 or 300 stipendiary magistrates, with salaries varying 
 from 3001. to 500L a-year, with a staff of clerks in 
 Dublin Castle, and a large barrack, with an adjutant, 
 officers, and a military chief, in the Phoenix Park — 
 surely this force should be sufficient to put down 
 murder and outrage. Ireland, thus filled with an 
 especial body, in addition to her vast army, should bo 
 kept in such a peaceful state, that crime, affrighted 
 by the fears of detection and punishment, would fly 
 from Ireland for ever. I have therefore published the 
 foregoing sketches of one, the recollection of whose 
 untiring and efficient zeal may yet stir up the emu- 
 lation of the present police force, and in that hope I 
 have thrown them loosely off, without regard to literary 
 fame. One or two of them have already appeared in a 
 popular periodical ; but with these exceptions, they arc 
 before the public for the first time, and touch rather 
 
FINAL WORD ON IRELAND. 
 
 305 
 
 upon the less-canvassed incidents which occurred in the 
 South of Ireland, than the more glaring ones made 
 public by every newspaper in the United Kingdom — 
 a roll of bloody deeds more fitting for the pages of a new 
 edition of the " Newgate Calendar," than those of a 
 mere railway volume. 
 
 THE END. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 BAVILL AND EDWARDS, PRINTERS, CHANDOB BTEEET, 
 COYENT OABDEN. 
 
\ 
 
Date Due 
 
1