Library of
Emory University
BUZ
LIFE
OR
ROBERT EMMETT,
THE CELEBRATED
•IRISH PATRIOT AND MARTYRj
WITH HIS SPEECHES, &c.
ALSO,
AN APPENDIX,
CONTAINING
VALUABLE PORTIONS OF IRISH HISTORY.
BY ^OHN W.fBJCJRKE.
THIRD EDITION.
CHARLESTON, S. C.
OOURTENAY& WIENGES.
PHILADELPHIA:
THOMAS, COWPERTHWAlTE_fcCO.
1 8 5 2
i j 1 *.
. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by
"'JtfUN W. Burke,
in the Clerk's T>ffice[ of the 'District Ucttrtrtf -the Northern
- District of Georgia
TO THE
&q~\X8- a( tljx ©nuralir I$lt,
THROUGHOUT THE UNION,
THIS BOOK 18 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,
AS AN HUJIBLE TOKEN OF
ESTEEM IN WHICH THEY ARE HELD BY
THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE.
From the earlieBt recollection of the compiler of this work,
he has sought for a complete and satisfactory biography of
Robert Emmett ; but up to the present time he has been
Unsuccessful. Feeling, in common with his 'countrymen,
the need of such a book, he has been impelled to the task
before him. It is not hoped that the deficiency will be
supplied by the production of the following pages ; yet the
compiler entertains the belief that it "will', in some degree,
fill the desideratum, and be well received by Irishmen, He
feels certain that they .will gladly weloome it to the world
of letters, for two reasons r First, from a strong love for the
memory of the man. Secondly, that, while ponderous vol¬
umes of biography are afloat in the land, of men less dis¬
tinguished, a life of Emmett may be found that is in some
'degree worthy of the man.
The only recommendation which the compiler can offer
with this-volume, is that it is published from the strong
impulses of an Irish heart; and with the sole design to
commemorate a name dear to every native of the Green
Isle.
The works consulted in the preparation of this work,
were principally-—" Life, Trial and Conversations of Robert
Rmmett, &c." a little volume published originally in Lon-
vi
PREFACE.
don, and re-printed in this pountry by It. Coddingtpn, of
New .York; '' Ourrau and bis Contemporaries," by Charles
Phillips, Esq.; and " Phillips' Speeches." In addition to
these., be has derived much valuable-in formation from news¬
papers and magazines^ And from individuals who Were coa-
temporariea of Mr. Emmett's.
J. W. JB.
Charleston<
CONTENTS.
PART I,
Birth—Parentage—Thomas Addis Emmett—Early Ed¬
ucation-—In College—In France—His efforts for Lib¬
erty...., r...
FART IL
The United Irishmen—The causes which led to the
rebellion of '98—An evening with Emmett-^-Theo-
baild Wolfe Tone—Tlve Union.—Its consequences 29
PART III.
Preparations for an outbreak—Devotion of the Patri¬
ots—Cruelties of the day—Explosion of a Depot—
The day of attack approaches 48
PART IV.
The attack—Failure—Dispersion of the patriots—Em¬
mett's attachment for Miss Crfrran—Attempts to (
visit her and is captured—Major Birr 14
PART V.
The eenduct of Mr. Emmett after his arre.t—Hisilet¬
ter to Mr. John Philpot Curran—His' associates—
Vrii ®DEI.
Trial and conviction—Hia celebrated speech in de¬
fence Of his character ... 98
PART VI.
Mr. Emmett after his conviction—Letter to Richard
Curran-^-Parting interview with Miss Sarah Curran—•-
His death. ........ 147
PART VIL
Some account of Miss Curran—Her devotion to the
memory of Emmett—Irving's sketch ' of their love,
Ac. Ac 159
APPENDIX.
Plan of the Insurrection—Cause of its failure-—Further ac¬
count of Theobald Wolfe Tone—The Irish Foreman of
. '98—The Irishman's Revenge—The uninscrihed Tomb of
Emmett—The Irish Patriots of '48, Ac. Ac.
LIFE OF ROBERT EMMETT.
PART I
Birth—Parentage—Thomas Addis Emmett—Early Educa¬
tion—'In College—In France—His efforts for Liberty.
The patriotic heart in every; land thrills at
the mention of a name which has become il¬
lustrious for self-sacrificing devotion to his
country—a, man who voluntarily laid down his
life for the amelioration of the condition of his
down-trodden countrymen.' History furnishes
few such instances of true patriotism as that of
Robert Emmett. It finds a parallel only in the
life of Moses—who gave up all worldly pros-'
pects of honor for his oppressed fellows—choos¬
ing to suffer a season with them and endeavor
to liberate "them from bondage, rather than be
exalted to Egypt's highest honors. Very sim¬
ilar was the patriotism of Emmett. From his
superior mind and many accomplishments, there,
is no doubt but he Could have attained great
eminence among the men of his day,; but he
1
2
LIFE OF EMMETT.
sacrificed this hope, and even his life, for his
oppressed and beloved country. _ What patriot,
then,'.will not delight to do him honor, and go
with us, while we recite a few passages in his
eventful life ?
Robert Emmett was born in the city of
Dublin, during the year 1782.* His "father,
Dr. Emmett, was for many years state physi¬
cian in Dublin. Thomas Addis, Emmett, his
brother, came to America, and was for several
years a member of the New York bar, in which
he practised with distinguished success. ■ He
had abandoned, before the rebellion of 1798, a
respectable situation at the Irish bar, in or¬
der'to project and carry into execution, the
schemes of that day for "an Irish republic,
and was consequently, with Dr. McNain and
several other patriots, deported to" America.
He had one other brother, Temple, of whom his
father once asked : "Well, Temple, what would
you do for your country ? Addis would kill
his sister for his country! Would you kill
your brother? would you kill me?"" Little,
alas ! did that unhappy father foresee the con¬
sequences of the lesson he was inculcating!
* We Lave been unable to learn the exact day of the
year.—Com.
LTEE OF EMMETS 3
and little did Mr. Curran dream, when he
ridiculed " this morning draught^ of the doc¬
tors, how mournfully it was one -day to affect
himself.
Of this family, Temple the elde'st, passed-
through the University with such success that it
js said his examiners changed, in his case, the
usual approbation of vatde bene into the more
laudable'one of " O, quam' bene!" His rise
at the Irish bar" was unexampled, and at the
early age of-thirty, with a reputation to which
time could not-have added, he was called away
from the scenes of this life to the xealities of
the unknown world.
- -The second brother, Thomas Addis, to whom
we have before briefly alluded, ^vas a man of
great and comprehensive mind; of the warm¬
est and sincerest affection for his friends; and
of a firm and steady adherence to his princi¬
ples ; to which he sacrificed much, and would,
if it had been necessary, have sacrificed his
life. He was originally intended for a -physi¬
cian, 'and had actually graduated at Edinburgh,
when the premature death of Temple chang¬
ed his course,^und by the advice of his fellow
student, Sir James Macintosh, he relinquished
.medicine for the la w. Had he confined him-
4 LIPfL OF EMMETTy
self to his profession, there could have been no
doubt, from the eminence to which he soon at¬
tained, of his ultimately realizing every object of
his ambition. As we before noticed, he became,
entangled so much with the politics of the day,
that, with the consent of the Government, he
was self-expatriated. It does not appear that
he committed any indictable offence, but he
was a member of the Executive Directory, and
had so embarked his enthusiasm and his tal¬
ents in the cause, that retract he could not, and
tcr proceed was death. He left his native land,
for Ameriea, yet his memory was still fresh
there. Petes Burrowes, his friend and cor¬
respondent, (in the teeth of an aet of Parlia¬
ment) used to revel in the recollection of him.
The following anecdote, which he frequently
repeated, and with great effect, vividly exhib¬
its the intrepidity of the man. A malcontent
had been convicted of taking the United Irish¬
man's oath, which, as a curiosity, is here in¬
serted :
"I, A B, in the presence of God, do pledge
myself to my country, that I will use all my
abilities and influence in the attainment of an
adequate and impartial representation of the
Irish nation in Parliament 5 and as a means of
LIFE OF EMJfETT.
6
absolute and immediate necessity in the attain¬
ment of this chief good of IrelandJrI will en¬
deavor, as much as lies in my power, to for¬
ward a' brotherhood of affection, an. identity of
interests, a communion of rights, and a union
of power, among Irishmen of all religious per¬
suasions, without which every reform in Par¬
liament most be partial, not rational, inadequate
to'the wants, delusive to the wishOs, and in¬
sufficient for the freedom, and happiness of this
country."
EmiMett, on motion for arrest of judgment,
after exhausting his learning and ingenuity,
astonished his hearers with this startling an¬
nouncement : " And now, my lords, here, in
the presence of the legal court, this crowded
auditory—in': the presence of the Being that
witnesses and directs this judicial tribunal—
even here, my lords, I, Thomas Adjjis Emmett,
declare—I take the oath ! " And while bar,
bench, and auditory "held their breath," he
kissed the book! All men seemed literally so
stunned by this daring and hazardous experi¬
ment, that it passed unreprehended. However,
that the offenee was indictable, was placed be¬
yond doubt, for the court sustained .the judg¬
ment.
E. JJFE OF EMMETT,
After an imprisonment of four years in Fort
George, in violation'of an express promise, the
state prisoners, Mr. Emmett among the rest,
were released, ahd in 1804, at the age, of 40,
he landed in America. * After some hesitation
as to whether he would not pursue his original
profession as a physician* he at length deter¬
mined on the bar. . His, call, without a prelim¬
inary- probation of three years, met the opposi¬
tion of Chancellor Kent, then Chief Justice of
the Supreme Court, whq at length yielded to
the entreaties of his brethren; and, by a sus¬
pension of its rules, -he became arr American
barrister. From the family of the Clintons,
the chief of which was then Governor, of the
State of New York, he- received both advice
and countenance, and at their suggestion he
located himself in the city of New York. Still
all was not fair weather. America, the Utopia
of his republican idolatry, had its feuds and its
parties. There were those in New York for
whom Emmett was too republican. Partly
from an antipathy to his politics, and partly, it
is to be feared, from professional jealousy, the
Federalist party at the local bar, outraged all de¬
cency so far as to refuse - to hold briefs with
"him f ©ut he who had braved power in its-
LTFE OF EMMETT. f
stronghold, was not the man • to quail before
such a confederacy as that.. He gonfronted
and crushed it, and reaped not merely the
pecuniary rewards, but whqt of ccfurs.e he prized
more, the honors of the profession. ' His' ene¬
mies cowered before him-—Chancellor Kent
rejoiced in the Recantation of his hostility^ and
the expatriated Irishman became Attorney Gen¬
eral of the State of New York. It .was, indeed,
an enviable elevation, because attained by no
unworthy art or servile compromise, but fairly
earned by splendid, talents, indefatigable indus¬
try, and stern independence. It requires some
experience of the difficulties he overcame in a
strange land, amid envious rivals, friendless and
isolated, to estimate his merits. There Aare
some interesting incidents recorded of the
manner in which Mr. Emmett met his enemies.
Among these, one of the most formidable, and
also the mostemiqent, was Rufus King. ' Em¬
mett, it will be observed, owed him an ancient
grudge, and avenged -it on the occasion of
King's being a candidate for Governor of New
York, in 1807. At a meeting of the Irish in
that city, he bitterly assailed the Federal candi¬
date. and was in turn as bitterly assailed by
him, and by the press in his interest. Emmett
s -life of emmett.
retorted, i-n a letter, his charges against King,
one of which was his interference, as embassador
at the Court-of St. James's to prevent the state
prisoners .from residing .'in America!—-a cruel,
and, from such a quarter, a scarrdaloUs interfer¬
ence. However, America," universal America,
has long since,by a,noble and generous hospital ity
vindicated her character from any participation
m such a proceeding. '**Your interference was
then, sir;'7 writes Emmet't, "made the pretext
for detaining us four years in custody, hy'which
very extensive and useful plans of settlement
within these States were broken up". The
misfortunes which you brought upon the objects
1 of your'pcrsecution were incalculable. Almost
all of us wasted four of the best years of our
lives in prison. As to me, I should have
brought along with me my father, and his
family, including a brother, whose name per"
haps, even yo\i will not read without emotions
of sympathy and respect. Others, nearly con¬
nected with me, would have become partners
•in my emigration. But all of them have beeii
torn from me. I have .been prevented from
saving a brother—from receiving the dying
blessiugs of a father, mother, and sister—and
from soothing their last agonies by my cares *
LIFfe OF EMMETT.
9
and this, sir, by your 'unwarrantable and un¬
feeling interference."
Who, on reading this-, can refuse a tear to
the fate of Robert Emmett ?" What virtues were
not shorn of their effect—what talents were not
robbed of their influence—by this monstrous
interference of King 1 Had. this not happened,
instead of expiating his love of country on a
scaffold, the subject of this memoir might have
wreathed fresh laurels for his native land, and
repaid with service, and requited with glory,
the lgn,d of his adoption. It were vain to
•speculate on what might have been ; but sure¬
ly. never was a dawn more splendid,'overcast,
or a fairer spring blighted in its promise.
Mr. Emmett thus proceeds in his letter to
King: "Your friends, when they accuse me
of want of moderation towards you, are won¬
derfully mistaken. They do not reflect, or
know, that I have never spoken of you, with¬
out suppressing, as I now do, personal feelings
that rise up within me, and swell my heart
with indignation and resentment. The step
you to.ok was unauthorized by your own Gov¬
ernment. Whether our conduct in Ireland was
right or wrong, you have no justification for
your®. The constitution and laws of this coup-
10
LIFE OF EMMETT:
try gave you no power to require of the British
Government that it should violate its faith, and
withdraw from us its- consent to the place we
had fixed upon for our voluntary emigration;
neither the President nor you were warranted
to prevent our touching t&ese shores. These
remarks I address, with-all becoming respect, to
one whom his press describes as "the first
man in the country."* Yet, in fact, I do not
clearly see in what consists your superiorit]
overnnyself. It is true, you have been a resi¬
dent Minister at the Court Of St. James', and
if what I have read' in the public prints be"
true, and .if you be apprised of my near rela¬
tionship and family connection with the late
Sir John Temple, you must acknowledge that
your interference-, as a Minister, against my be¬
ing permitted Jo emigrate to America, is a very
curious instance of the caprice of fortune. But
let that pass'. To what extent I ought to yield,
to you for talent and information, it is not for
me to decide. In no other respect however,
do I feel yoUr excessive superiority. My pri¬
vate character and conduct are, I hope, as fair
as yours; and even in those matters which I
consider as trivial, but upon which aristocratic
f)rido is accustomed to stamp a value-, I should
LIFE OF EMMETT.
11
not be inclined to shrink from competition.
My birth, certainly, will not humble me by the
comparison. My paternal fortune was proba¬
bly much greater than yours.; the considera¬
tion in which the name was held in my native
country, was as great as yours was ever likely
to be, before I had an opportunity of contribu¬
ting to its celebrity. As to the amount of what
. private fortune I have been able to save from
the. wreck of calamity,, it is unkown to you or
your friends; but two things I will tell you—
I never was indebted, either in th.e country
from which I came, or in any other in which I
have lived, to any man, further than the neces¬
sary credit for the current expenses of a family,
and am not so circumstanced that I should
" tremble for my subsistence" at the threatened
displeasure of your friends. Circumstances
which cannot be controlled, have decided that
my name must be embodied in history. From
the manner in which my political adversaries,
and some of my cotemporary historians, une¬
quivocally hostile to my principles, already
speak of me, I have the consolation of reflect¬
ing that, when the falsehoods of the day are
withered and rotten, I shall be respected and
esteemed. You, sirT will probably be forgotten
12 LIFE OF E1IMETT.
when I shall be remembered with honor p oV,
if peradventure, yduY name should descend.to
posterity, you will be only known asrth<s-record¬
ed instrument of part of my persecutions, suf¬
ferings and misfortunes."
TNTor was this the only occasion on which
he had to' encounter- the - virulence of ah
ex-embassadcr. It frally appears as if a resi¬
dence in Europe, as .Minister of State, and ac¬
cess to its courts, rather polished away a little
of the roughness 'k of republicanism. One is
somewhat surprised to find the patriotism, of
the exile, his love of freedom, and the sacri¬
fices he volunteered for it,"cast upon him as
reproaches by any man in America! Yet such,
it would seem, were the weapons employed by
Mr. Pinckney when opposed to Emmett, in 1 SI 5,
in the Supreme Court of the United States, at
Washington. Emmett's demeanor was such in
noticing it, that shame-extorted next day from
his defeated adversary an eulogium, which he
doubtless estimated at its true worth. " I am,"
said Mr. Emmett, " Mr. Pinckney's equal in
birth, in rank, in connections.* It is true, I am
an Irishman. It is true that, in attempting to
rescue an oppressed, brave, and generous-heart¬
ed people, I have been driven from the forum
LIFE OF EMMETT.
13
ifi my own land. It is -true that I came -to
America for -refuge, and sought protection be¬
neath.her Constitution -and 'laws; - It is also
true that my learned antagonist Will n§ver gath¬
er a fresh wreath *pf laurel, -or add lustre to his
-well earned fame, by alluding to. those1 facts in
-a tone oil malignant triumph.. I know not. by
what Jiame- arrogance and presumption may be
called on this* side of the water, hut I am sure
he never could have acquired those manners in
the polite circles of Europe, which he has-so
long frequented as a public minister."
Thomas Addis Emmett pursued his prosper¬
ous career at the American bar, having chang¬
ed envy, into honor and respect, till the month
of November, 1827, closed the toils and per¬
ils of hjs checkered life. He was employed all
day in court in an important cause, and was
busily taking notes for a reply, when, suddenly
.drooping, h§ leaned his head helplessly on the
table. It was too clear. A fit of apoplexy
sad suddenly seized him, and the few last lines
legible on his paper plainly manifested the tre¬
mor mid which they were written. He never
rallied ; and bis Joss seems to have cast a gloom
over the whole community. The Common
Council of the city of New York wore an em-
u life. of emmete.
blem of mourning for thirty days; the highest
functionaries of the law- came to the following
resolution: <£ The- Judges now present most
deeply deplore his death, and will unite with
their associate Justices and other public func¬
tionaries, and with their fellow-citizens, in tes¬
tifying their regard for the deceased, thedr ad¬
miration of his talents, -and' their approbation
of his virtues."
His brethren of the bar erected- a tablet to
his memory, thus inscribed:
Thoma.se. 4-ddis. Emmett.
viro.
Doctrina. Jure, Scientia. El.oq,uentia.
Prestantissimo.
Inter. H^c. Subsellia. et. Officii. $1unera.
Sub it a. Morte. Correpto.
Socii. Forenses. Posuerant.
In addition to this, the citizens of New
York erected a hadsome .marble monument to
him", thirty feet in height, in the cemetery of
St. Paul's Church, in Broadway, upon which
was inscribed
LIFE OF EMMETT,
In'memory of
THOMAS ADDIS EMMETT,
Who'
Exemplified in his conduct,
And adorned "by his
Integrity,
The policy .and-principles
Of the United Irishmen—
" To forward a brotherhood
Of affection,
A community of rights,
An identity of interests,
And a "union of power
Among Irishmen
Of every religious persuasion,
As the only means of Ireland's
Chief good,
An impartial and adequate
Representation
In an Irish Parliament."
For this,
(Mysterious fate of virtue ?)
Exiled from his native land.
In America, the land of freedom,
He found a second country!
.15
LIFE OF EMMETT.
Which paid his love
By reverencing his genius.
Learned in our laws
And in the laws of Europe",
In the literature of our times
And in that of antiquity,-
"All knowledge
Seemed subject to his use.
An orator of the first order,
Clear, copious, fervid,
Alike powerful
To kindle the imagination,
Touch the affections,
And sway the reason and the will.
Simple in his tastes,
Unassuming in his manners,
Frank, generous, kind-hearted,
And honorable,
His private life was beautiful,
As his public course was
Brilliant.
An^ioug to perpetuate
The name and example of such a man,
Alike illustrious by his
Genius, his virtues, and his fate;
Consecrated to their affections
LIFE OF EMMETT. 1J
By his sacrifices, his perils,
And the deeper calamities
Of his kindred,
In a jusfand holy cause '
His sympathizing countrymen
Erected this monument and
Cenotaplj.
Born at Cork, 24th April, 1764,
-He died in this city*,
-44th November, 1827*
Before closing this sketch, and resuming the
main design of this work, we insert the follow¬
ing eloquent description by Mr. Duer, an emi¬
nent advocate, and'one who was not among his
intimate associates : u Thomas Addis Emmett,
in head and in heart, and in no vulgar sense of
the term, was a great man; and as an orator,
with .the single exception of Burke, unsurpassed
by any that his country has'produced. Superior
in judgment, in taste, m the extent and variety
of his learaingrin persevering-skill, in chastened
cfervor, in true pathos, the abilities of Emmett
were never displayed on their proper theatre.
Ilis large and philosophic views of society, go¬
vernment and law—his ample stores of knowl¬
edge—hia unrivalled promptitude and invaria-
18 LIFE OF EMMETT.
hie self-command—his elocution, flowing, co¬
pious, rapid, unlimited in the range, most fertile
in the choice of his language—his brilliant
imagination and ardent feelings, when most
excited, accustomed to obey the suggestions, of
his reason—his powers of " sarcasm and irony,
rarely exerted, but when put forth, resistless;
and above all, that imperitorial tope of voice (if
the phrase be allowed) which his genius ena¬
bled him withotit affectation to assume, in a
deliberative and popular assembly, would have
combined to invest him with- controlling
sway."*
"Robert Emmett," says one of his biogra¬
phers, " was moulded in nature's happiest form
for his destined service. Ho possessed the
physical qualities necessary for an accomplish¬
ed speaker—with high intellect to master and
employ knowledge—with imagination and feel¬
ings to sway the passions and command the
heart—with the power. of incessant labour to
collect, discipline, and perfect the valued mate¬
rials of a revolutionary measure—he was emi¬
nently calculated for the task which he had
* We are principally indebted, for the foregoing sketch of
Mr. Thomas Addis Emmett, to a new work by Charles
Phillies, Es<j>, entitled ''Curraa and his Contemporaries/*
LIFE OF EMMETT.
-undertaken. And, had success depended upon
the worth and the virtues of one man, Emmett
would now have been hailed as the liberator of
his pountry."
At a very early age, he was sent to school
fo the Rev. Mr. Lewes, who, though a minis¬
ter of the Established Church; was yet an enemy
to its monopolizing power and persecuting spi¬
rit towards his Catholic, fellow-subjects. The
impressions which Emmett received from this
good man lasted him through life. His young
mind was th6n filled with a detestation of
tyranny and injustice.
When sixteen year§ of age, he entered Trin¬
ity College. Here his progress in classical and
mathematical knowledge soon gained him hon¬
or and reputation. But his heated spirit had
been worked up by the political enthusiasm in
which he had been early initiated, and he be--
gan to show signs of the future course he was
to pursue. At the Historical Society to which
he belonged, he expressed his^ sentiments so
freely on English influence in Ireland, that he
came under .the suspicions of Lord Chancellor
Clare, who afterwards expelled him from Col¬
lege, for denouncing, in, a speech he made, the
20
LIFE OF EMMETT.
English form of Government, and advocating
that of a republic.
He had already been so unguarded in his
conduct, during the rebellion of 1798, as to be¬
come an object of the vigilance of the Govem-
meht, and had found it "best to leave Ireland
while the habeas corpus act' was suspended'
He fled to the continent, where an active cor¬
respondence was set on foot by the French
Government. Emmett, together with the'lead¬
ers of the preceding Irish Rebellion wCrC sum¬
moned to Paris. Consultations were held with
them, and the organisation of another revolu¬
tion was commenced and prosecuted with in¬
creasing diligence. Napoleon Bonaparte, then
Emperor of France, aided them by every means
in his power. Emmett was made the director
and mover of this new attempt to liberate Ire¬
land from British dominion.
On the expiration of the suspension of the
habeas corpus act, Emmett returned to Dub¬
lin, but thought it prudent, for the forwarding
of the revolution, to -live privately. He took
private lodgings at Harold's Cross, under the
assumed name of Hewitt. At this place his
meetings with his confederates were held.
LIFE OF EMMETT. 21
These people, of course, hailed with delight the,
opportunity of re-commencing another attempt
at subverting British power in Ireland; and
while some spread themselves over the country
in every direction, others fixed themselves in,
the metropolis.
For about four months after his arrival, noth¬
ing of Emmett's plans transpired. Soon after
the King's proclamation, on the Sth of March,
conceiving .the moment of national alarm at the
renewal of hostilities and a threatened inva-
4 *.
sion, favorable to his projects, he became more
active in his preparations. The whole of his
family portion, which" consisted of £2,500, he
devoted to his enthusiasm. In the beginning
of April,-he quitted his lodgings at Harold's
Cross, with the name of Hewitt, and in the
new name of Ellis, he took the lease of a
house, for which he paid sixty-one guineas, in
Butterfield Lane, near Rathfarnham. Here
he harangued his associates, and encouraged
them by hopes of a happy result to their labors,,
which alas! were never realized.
" Liberty,' said he, " is the child of oppres¬
sion, and the birth of the offspring is the death
of the parent; while tyranny, like-the poetical
desert bird, Is consumed in_fiame§ ignited by
22 JJFS QF EMMKT^
itself, and its whole existence is spent in pro¬
viding the means of self-destruetion. We have
a complete exemplification of this in the past
history and present state of Ireland, where in¬
crease of numbers and increase of intelligence
have been the direct resnlt of that systept'
which too long has Tuled this kingdom.
" The relentless oppression of the English
Government forced the people into habits of
temperance—necessity made them abstemious,
and time reconciled them to their wholesome
esculent, which providentially came- like the
manna of the desert, to feed, the sojourners in
the land of their fathers.
" When nature is easily satisfied, and the
necessaries of life procured with little labor
and care, increase of population will follow: be¬
cause parents, who are contented with thdir"
own condition will feel no uneasiness for their
offspring, who can, without any difficulty, pro¬
cure a situation similar to their own. Emigra¬
tion from such a country was not to be expect¬
ed ; for men whose moderate wants were amply
satisfied at home, had no need to seek else¬
where for wealth they did not desire, or dis¬
tinctions they did not value. Besides, Ireland
has always had peculiar attractions in retaining
jjFE OF EMMETTJ. 23
her children: a Scotchman loves a Scotchman,
but an Hibernian loves the green fields -of his
youth, and to enjoy these there are few priva¬
tions to which he will not cheerfully submit.
The eccentric humor, the boisterous mirth,
the kind and social intercourse, that character¬
ize the peasantry, likewise spread their charms,
and generally succeededin subduing the aspi¬
ring notions of adventurers, and helped to retain
the people at home. When to these were add¬
ed the allurements of a more tender kind, and
when no restraint was placed upon the natural
instinct of man, we must not wonder that Ire¬
land is blessed with a, population without a
parallel in Europe.
" The base and cowardly conduct ofthe Irish
proprietors in deserting the "country, though at
the moment a grievance, was absolutely produc-
tive'ofgood. Their large domains were par¬
celled out to humble cottages; farms were di¬
vided and subdivided; cabins every where rais¬
ed their unostentatious roofs; and every floor
was blessed with a numerous progeny.
11 Ireland has been forced into agriculture y*
* Agriculture.—'The mother and nurse of a military
population. Ireland has been forced into this. It was
thought she had sunk under the arbitrary tyranny ofBritish
g4 LIKE OF EMMETT.
and this still farther tends to increase the pop¬
ulation, and to give her that political impor¬
tance she never could have acquired if the peo¬
ple had been immured in mineral dungeons,
or confine.d to the fetid vapours of a manufac¬
turing Bastile. Rural labor is not more condu¬
cive to the health of the body, than it is bene¬
ficial to the exercise of the mind- and we
always find the agriculturist superior to the
mechanic, not only in physical strength, but in
moral energy. The one is a natural soldier^
who commands respect, and exacts considera¬
tion ; while the other is a mere animated ma¬
chine, whose, ideas serve but as internal wheels
td keep his hands in motion. His frame is
distorted, his mind crippled, and his qourage
annihilated ; but the agriculturist is a man such
as nature intended—fearless, active and reso¬
lute ; the air he breathes ensur.es him health;
the ground he tills supplies him with susten¬
ance ; and his occupations make him moral,
monopoly. Let the proud Briton regale himself in the
wholesome air of mines and workshops, and become ossified
in the strengthening attitudes of monotonous labor; while
the degraded ^ Irishman draws health and number, and
fierceness and foroe, and becomes too nimble to he caught
by his crippled owner, who hobbles after and threatens
with his crutch.* •
Life of emmett. 2$
hardy and brave. This is a copy of a million
portraits, and' they are all found in Ireland.
4 The aspirations of civilized man after free¬
dom are coeval with his existence. His rights^
like' the'mountain torrent, may be diverted-
from their original channel, but cannot be effec¬
tually impeded- in their cojirse. Dams may be
raised to stop the coming -stream; but, if the
congregated waters cannot find another way to
the place of their destination, they will burst
through every opposition, and overwhelm in
destruction all the works of lordly and presump¬
tive man.'
4 But we find,' observed a bystander, 4 that
very populous Countries have continued in
slavery.'
■ 4 Numbers,' rejoined Emmett, {'whose minds
are more enslaved than their bodies, may sub¬
mit to injustice; but numbers, inspired with in¬
telligence, never can. The Irish people are not
-only shrewd, but informed; and for this good,
as well as" for every other blessing they possess,
they are indebted to the folly and wickedness
of their governors. Divide et impera has long
been the maxim of those who oppressed us; but
the result has been the reverse of their antici¬
pations. The contihued agitation, faction, and
2
26 LIFE 0? 'EMfcTUTT.
discord, consequent upon such a system of
legislation, produced their moral effects, and,
like the vivid lightning, served to purify the
element they disturbed. The political whirl¬
pool has drawn within its vortex every man in
Ireland; discussion has been universally pro¬
voked ; and the passions have been enlisted iu
the general conflict. The human intellect has
been propelled, vulgar errors corrected, and the
spirit of enquiry and investigation has gone
©broad.
* To reason upon the political.state of his
country, has long been the propensity of the
Irish peasant; and, from continually thinking
upon that subject, he has at length learned to
think right. He not only knows his degraded
condition, but is well acquainted with the cause*
There is not a subject connected with the
country, on which he cannot give an accurate
opinion; he knows, as well as any man in the
Castle, the purpose of every measure of Gov¬
ernment, whether it be to enrich a spendthrift
nobleman by a job, or coerce the unfortunate
peasantry by an Insurrection Act.
' I know my countrymen: I have conversed
with them, and have found them practical phi¬
losophers. Their sentiments are the pure em-
LIFE OF EMMETT.
anations of acute minds, instructed in the school
of nature, and taught by adversity. They are,
in consequence, generally correct, and, without
any great exertion of thought, are frequently
profound. How often have I seen them smile
at,the abortive efforts of their friends, who en¬
deavor to procure them redress in a constitu¬
tional way, while, at the same time, they have
told me very pertinently1, and very truly, that
they expected no concession from Government,
until they_were able to insist on it P "
During this address, Emmptt's line manly
countenance glowed with an enthusiastic ar-.
dour, and ho delivered himself with as much
animated fervency -as if he were addressing a
numerous but 'distraetecl assembly, which he
wished to persuade. His words flowed with a
graceful fluency, and he combined his argu¬
ments with all the ease of a man accustomed
to abstract discussions.
His amiable and esteemed character gave an
elevating influence to the fame of the society
of which he was the leader—many of. whom,
though of equal talents and respectability, were
inferior in that fine-sensibility of heart, and
constancy in friendship, which gained him the
love and esteem of all who knew him. Nor
i<3 LIFE OF EMMETT.
was it only for his bland manners and fine sen¬
sibilities of heart, and constancy in friendship,
and'firmness in principle ; fie ranked, amongst
the highest of its gifted sons, who display its
fertile genius and its social spirit, who intro¬
duce the name of Ireland to the respect of the
world.
Commensurate with, his value to* relatives
and friends, and to his native city, was the
appalling sensation that pervaded his country
on the occasion of his lamented death. It is
not, then, surprising, that his removal in one
unexpected moment from this busy life's voca¬
tions, to the obliviqus silence of the, tomb,
should produce, as it didj a general burst of
sorrow^ and a cbmmon sense of bereavement.
PART II.
The United Irishmen—The causes which led to the Rebel¬
lion of'98—An evening with Emmett—Theobald Wolfe
Tone—The Union—Its consequences. ' *
' More than fifty summers have closed around
the United Irishmen since they made .Catholic
emancipation and parl iamentary reform the lead¬
ing measures of their policy. They found all
the Catholics of Ireland, the great majority of
its population, reduGe,d by the operation of the
ferocious.penaHaws^ to the condition of slaves,
in all .things except being vendable, to the very
meanest of their Protectant countrymen. Not
only did the British Government embrace every
severity that could waste the vigor of the na¬
tion i but all the rights of humanity, and every
duty of life, were sacrificed by its direction or
connivance ; provided only that this sacrifice
would promote the self-interest,- or gratify the
rancor of the favored party.
Thus, there was a law of discovery, by which
a man who betrayed the confidence of-his
friend, if he were Catholic, possessed himself of
that friend's estate.
There was a law which disabled the~Catho-
SO LIFE OF EMMETT.
Or
lie father to be a 'guardian to his own child, or
to educate him.
There was a law which made the disobe¬
dience or apostacy of the Catholic child the
means whereby to disinherit his father.
There was a law for robbing a Catholic- of
his horse on the highway, if when interrogated,
he confessed his faith.
There was a law to prevent the education
of Catholic children, and to ■punish Catholic
teachers as convicts; to banish the Catholic
clergy; and to hang them if they returned; to
prevent Catholics from purchasing or inheriting
landed estates; from having arms for their de¬
fence ; to debar them from the profession of
the law; to prevent them from holding any
office of trust, honor or emolument; voting at
elections, 'or sitting in Parliament.
The United Irishmen found their country
under the government of such laws, and of
many others, all conceived iiV the same spirit,
and all elaborated with consummate skill to
rob, h&rrass and insult a defenceless people.
These statutes, without parallel for inhumani¬
ty, were framed against Christians, under pre¬
tence of securing the Protestant religion. They
were enacted by the Irish Protestants, political
LIFE OF'EMMETT.
31
Protestants j than whom no sect has cried more
loudly against oppression and.persecution, when
the' Protestants were martyrs. For all this, the
Protestant religion is not persecuting in its na¬
ture. ~ rThe crimes of the dominant party are
not justly chargeable upon the Protestant reli¬
gion, though committed in its name. "They
were bitterly deplored by the- United Irishmen
of; all religions, and'by none more than the
subject of this memoir, himself a1 member of
the established- Church, but no abetter of its
injustice..
Through all this'long persecution, the con¬
duct of ^England wore a vizor of hypocrisy. It
was not the'conversion of Jhe Irish it desired,
but their spoliation, division and subjection.
If united in religion, they might unite for their
wordly interest, and a means of weakening
them'by dissension would be lost. The Eng¬
lish mission never had -the merit'of being hon¬
estly fanatical; it wa§ cold-blooded and crafty.
Its conduct was not feebly palliated by the
mistaken sincerity of blind zeal which time
might soften and, philosophy assuage. It had
the more terrestrial motives of insatiable rapa¬
city, the appetite for plunder, and the-desire of
fattening on , the green, pastures .of Ireland-
82 LIFE OF "EMMETT.
Thjs is the .eating canker which neither time
norLreason ever-cures, and'which js now as
devouring, where it has the power,, as- at- its
first inception.
After the law-s had disfranchised four-fifths
of the population, alj the emoluments of office,
all the wealth of the richest -church in the
world, all ilie distinctions of pow~er, all the
pomp, circumstance and advantages of domin¬
ion, fell, into the lap of the iavored few. These
men never wished to lessen the" pretexts of
their gains ; they "never sought the conversion -
of their helots by any meanajthgt over made
proselytes to any cause. .
The domestic spoliation of the Catholics was
the share of the Irish Protestants in this whole¬
sale, robbery. The^spoliation'pf the Irish na¬
tion was the part of England in this boundless
plunder: she took the whole trade, prosperity
and independence of Ireland, which the Irish
Protestants (shame on them) freely surrendered,
for the license to pillage and tyrannize at
home. These" wrongs inflicted and endured,
begat mutual hatred and frequent collision, and
will account for the little union among Irish¬
men, and the ferocity of character to be found
LIFE OF EMI^ETT, 83
in those districts where the adverse parties
came oftenest into contact.
* This barter of anation'srightsfor the lucre
of a faction, is what was called the Protestant
ascendancy in church and state. It Was also
called the British constitution. Against- that
impious 'combination of treachery within, and
tyranny from without,, the United Irishmen
pointed their oath of union, which we have givi
en • in another place. It was this oath that
Was prosecuted as a felony, and for which fre¬
quent victim^ were sent to .the scaffold.
Emmett did not live to behold the triumph
-bf the Catholic cause, that happy accomplish¬
ment of one of the greatest measures to which
he devoted fortune and life. But he.saw, or
thought he saw, all the materials for a, success¬
ful strugglp for freedom, in the internal resour¬
ces of his beloved Ireland. In his- moments
of social ease and retirement, he delighted to
enumerate those resources. A writer who
seemed to know him -well, gives the follow¬
ing conversation- between Emmett and his
friends, while he was 'maturing his measures
for the coming contest
«I have seldom spent a happier hour in my
life, than I did that evening with Emmeth
84 LIFE OF EMMETT.
His manners, his-eloquence, and the sincerity,
a? well as kindness, "which breathed through
every thing he said, banished reserve on my
part, and'we all conversed more like long-tried
friends than casual acquaintances. We talked
6f literature, of London, and of politics. My
sentiments regarding Liberty^-the goddess he
idolized—were warm; and, as I spoke with
becoming abhorrence of tyranny, he seemed
delighted with bay opinions. Before we Separ¬
ated he made me promise to call on him that
night at his lodgings) 'and when I did so, about
eight o'clock, I was agreeably surprised to find
the Exile there before me. After supper the
conversation took a political turn, and Emmetty
whose mind was then filled with the project
of liberating his country, began to expatiate on
the ease with which Ireland could throw off
the English yoke, and the benefits" that would
ensue, from such a measure.
'Your enthusiasm, my friend,' said I, inter¬
rupting him, ' carries you beyond the bounds
of probability; for, in anticipating a revolution
in this country, you forget that England calcu¬
lates on the-subjecfion of Ireland, and that she
is able to compel what it is her interest to de¬
sire,"
LIFE OF EMMETT. 85
1 That she desires it,' he replied, * I have no
doubt; but that she is able to compel it, I un¬
hesitatingly deny. The belief in England's
superior strength has too long prevailed,in this
kingdorp, but it is now, happily, beginning to
disappear. In comparing the two' countries,
we must exclude from our calculation every
thing but physical strength alone, and then the
balance will be entirely in favor of Ireland;
for I believe it will be readily admitted that
she has the greater military population; and in
a Struggle for liberty, men only are valuable.
'It is a matter of arithmetical calculation.
Ireland can, in the event of a well-organized
revolution^ turninto the field between seven
and eight hundred thousand effective men—an
army certainly more numerous than any force
England could send against her.'
* Admitting your calculation to be correct,'
I returned, {you are not to deny the superiori¬
ty of disciplined troops over rebel numbers.
An army of fifty thousand men would soon
rout your invincible phalanx.'
' The time has passed, my dear sir,' he re¬
joined, {when such an exploded notion found
credence among mankind. In a barbarous
age, when two armies drew up within gun-
36 LIFE OF EMMETT.
shot of each other, each serving as an immove¬
able. target for its opponent to fire at, such a
belief was natural, because he who possessed a
musket had a fearful advantage over the man
who had not one. But modern times - have a
different and tnore natural mode' of warfare;
personal prowess now, as in periods'of antiqui¬
ty, is likely to be- victorious; and all'necessary
discipline can be learned in a very few days. A
man does not necessarily ,acquire either superior
courage or address from the color of his coat,
and a soldier with a fixed -bayonet has no ad¬
vantage over, a fierce peasant with a well-tem¬
pered pike. Almost every victory of modern
times has been gained by ccmmg to close ac¬
tion, and that mode, to which'a well-regulated
army is indebted for success, is as available to
a determined band of freemen as to 'any hired
troops in Europe.
'But, as different animals have different
modes of attack and defence, an insurgent army
has a discipline of its own, recommended by
reason, and sanctioned by experience. With
walled towns and clo^e garrisons they have
nothing to do: the hills of their country serve
them as places of retreat; marshes, rivers, and
lakes are their best bastions, while defiles af-
LIFE OFEMMETT,
ford them opportunities of attack, and woods
and valleys serve them as places of ambush.
' The faqe of nature solicits the oppressed to
regain their freedom; and certainly, no coun¬
try oh the globe has so many invitations to re¬
volt as our own. .Scarcely a mile, from one
extremity of the- island to'the other, in which
an hostile army could not be successfully har¬
assed, and, if needful, successfully" opposed..
To this may be added^ that an Irish insurgent
army would materially differ from a similar one
in any kingdom of Europe ; for nearly every,
peasant, and certainly every "man above the
rank of' a peasant, is intimately acquainted
with the use of 'fire-arms. Those near the
sea-s"hore (and those are a large portion) are ex¬
cellent marksmen; while the inhabitants of
mountains, and the neighborhoods of bogs,
lakes and matches, are expert fowlers. The
Wexford insurgents, in the late rebellion, gave
a proof of their abilities, and showed that the
peasantry of Ireland, when aroused, are nothing
inferior to the best disciplined troops in Eu¬
rope.'
* I know it,' interrupted the'Exile, 'for^ I
witnessed their skill" in bringing down an ene¬
my, and I must confess that, had they leaders
33
LIFE OF EMMETT.
of.experience; they were nothing inferior, man
for man, to any force that might be brought
against them.
1 There is always a deficiency,' said I, 1 iit
some part, that renders every effort of the re¬
mainder abortive. Out of a hundred revolts,
Scarcely one has been successful."'
' Pardon me,', said Emmett, {if I ^set you
right; for history furnishes us with few instan¬
ces of failure where a nation has been unani¬
mous. It is giving the enemies of man a new
weight, to add to the burden of oppression, by
dignifying pigmy insurrections and partial re¬
bellions with the name of open revolt. They
should rather be called sanguinary riots, and
thus reduced to their proper level*: their ghosts
might not be summoned from oblivious ne¬
glect to scare- mankind from an- assertion of
their rights. Instances of national resuscita¬
tion are neither few nor unfrequent. Tyran¬
ny was expelled from Rome by the rebellion,
of the people; and Switzerland and the Neth¬
erlands are-memorials of successful revolts. In
our own day, America "has shown us what a
few thousand peasants .could accomplish when
actuated by a love of liberty. Ireland is super¬
ior in. numbers to any of these, equals them in
LIFE OF EMKETT;
89
address and'courage, and stimulated by wrongs"
greater than have been experienced by all these
together.
1 Soldiers are but menr and generally 'the
most imbecile of men.. Let the people be taught
to despise the glare and glitter of polished.arms,
and the terror they are wont to inspire will be
converted into objects of ridicule and contempt.
Happily an opinion prevails in Ireland, that ar
soldier is- an inferior - mortal, and that three
hundred athLetic peasants would be equal to a
regiment of a thousand men; I don't say that
this opinion is correct, but.it must be admitted
that, in case of a rising, it would be of infinite
service, as tending to inspire confidence in the
insurgents, and contempt for their enemies—•
two things that materially conduce to victory.
{Leaders, in a harassing war,- would be easi¬
ly procured, for. the sagacity of an unlettered-
peasant might serve for the purpose. Who
does not remember the servant boy at Oulard,
whose advice was followed by the destruction
of a whole -regiment? Great 'occasions pro¬
duce great men, and ^generals are formed in
the study as well as in the camp.- . The Cath?
olics are not what they formerly were—intelli¬
gence is diffused., thousands of them are in the
40 "LIFE OF EMMETT.
British army, arid every man of these would
desert on the first opportunity, for. the amor
pairim is not extinguished by the imposition
of the military oath.'
Down to the, period of 1782, English Acts
of Parliament were suffered to bind Ireland.
Misgovernment and poverty, 'the neglect' of
agriculture, the prohibition of commerce", the
abandonment of manufactures, werd, during
that period, the portion of Ireland. But to¬
wards the end of the American war, the vol¬
unteers emancipated their countrymen from
this bondage, and gave it the means of being
independent: 1 The example of America was
before both parties with all the omens; hence
the demands of the volunteers were prudeu-
tially conceded, and. the glorious revolution of
1782 was accomplished without the loss of a
drop of blood.- The happy consequence was
the immediate liberation- of the commerce of
Ireland from English restrictions. Her ensu¬
ing prosperity seemed miraculous—so prompt,
so general, so enriching ,J. and her aptitude to
prosper by free trade became known at the
same time, to her rival and herself.
Bub the vplunteers could not. be always in
arms, and Ireland had no representative assem-
LIFE OF EMMETT..
41
bly to foster her prosperity flaring peace. Hers
was, alas!- a borough-parliament, composed sole¬
ly of the dominant faction, representing but a
small portion of the inhabitants, and. haying
few. feelings or wishes ip unison \yith the mass
o£the people.
Etfery one soon perceived that all measures
o£ relief would be insecure, nay,Illusory, unless
preceded or accompanied by" a' reform in-the
parliament. The. volunteers saw it, and en¬
deavored to reform.; but-they-excluded the
Catholics from their plan,- _ and did not see
(unhappy effects of the ignorance of the time !)
that this alone would" defeat dheir aim; that
they could not erect an edifice of freedom on a
foundation of 'monopoly. - Warned by these
errors, the United Irishmen altered the system
of reform fundamentally. They extended their
base, and established their, plan upon three
.simple principles, necessarily, dependent upon
each other, and containing the disease, "the
remedy, and thh mode of" its attainment. The
excess of English influence, a reform in parlia¬
ment the* "remedy, and the inclusion of the
Catholics the mode of its- attainment.
43 IIP® OP EMMETT.
Theobald Wolfe Tone,* a very distin¬
guished politician of that day, had, of all oth¬
ers, the greatest part in effecting this change of
sentiment among the Protestants, to whose
communion he belonged. He wrote the origin
jial declaration for the Society of United Irish¬
men of Belfast, and .his- powerful writings
brought the Presbyterians of the - North very'
generally into the. system*
Emmett often, heard- him in strains of pure
and forcible- eloquence expand, inculcate and
apply, for the benefit of his beloved country,
the political principles of the United Irishmen.
Wherever.men.have no means of legitimate
redress, we have seen .them become their own
avengers, the worst government being always
marked by the. greatest commotion. If there
be not an impartial administration of justice,
the stiletto takes the place of the jury, and for
want of a .government restricted and accounta-
* We have embodied in the Appendix to this work, a
pketch of the life, trial and condemnation of this distin¬
guished Irish patriot, taken from Mr. Phillips' new work—*
«' Curran and his Contemporaries." "We -should have been
pleased to have introduced it into the body of the work,
but could not do so without too great a digression- ' It will
be found very interesting^ and it is hoped that it will not be
treated, as matters in an Appendix usually are.—Com.
LIFE OF EMMETT. 48
ble, in Ireland, insurrection and civil war were
the only resources of" an exasperated people.
-Left without the protection of a nationaLpar-
liampht, Ireland was always tyrannibally -ruled,
the frame of society dislocated and broken, and
her numerous insurrections Were the throes of
agonized nature;
But from the moment the Protestant reform--
ers recognized the principle that no reform was
practicable^ .efficacious, -or just, which should
not equally include Irishmen of every religious
persuasion, the measure was feasible. It re¬
ceived the assent of tha whole nation, save only
the Established Church, hud the other depend¬
ants of the British government. Its principle
recommended itself to the common sense of
mankind j and the authority of mankind pro¬
claimed its- benefits. In. a short time its way
was so prepared by public opinion, that even its
interested opponents " Anticipated rits final suc¬
cess. • They determined) therefore, upon the
desperate expedient of leaving no parliament in-
Ireland for a, reform to better. They hastened
to bay from the borough-holders that which a
truly Irish parliament would not sell—its own
existence. They hoped to extinguish, in the
abolition, of the parliament, every chance- of
44 LIFE OF EMMETT.
peaceable and constitutional improvement.-^-
They- conspired ta transport it for life, mutila¬
ted and captive, into the British House j to im¬
prison beyond the seas in the abyss of English
supremacy, where its languishing, nerveless
remains, doomed to live- in a perpetual mihori-
ty, could never more bring 'to its ill-fated coun¬
try the blessings of liberty, gpod government
orjcommerce. .
" By the measures of a legislative unioni Ire¬
land reverts again to the same wretched state
as wherr botind by ;acts of the British parlia¬
ment. En the misery of that state, the ablest
men. who ever advocated her cause, even other
than UnitecT Irishmen,, have exhausted elo¬
quence and invective, and the brightest page -in
her.history is the one which records the extort¬
ed renunciation'of that usurped power and plen¬
ary. right of self-government. The pitiful re¬
presentation of Ireland in a foreign, land can
but little avail her for her own benefit.- She is
there in a rfnnority of one to six. The six^ give
the law to the one, and with that one the.y haV<5
nothing, in common. They have other con¬
stituents, who- are U different people, .who have
clashing interests, who have national -antipa¬
thies, and who .may well feel contempt for the
IIFK. OF EMMHTf. 45
substitutes of that parliament that traitorously
sold: its country. Such are the legislators who
have bound Ireland in fetters.
"The consequences are the same. as' hereto- -
fore: "discontent and remonstrance, and a pro¬
clamation to all Europe, showing how easy it
would be to dismember the United Kingdom.
No loyalty will reconcile rational beings to pre¬
serve an evil which they pan exchange for a
good* j so that -those-*who make Ireland poor and
enslaved,, set before her, above all'other men,
the advantages of separation. What can create
desire for this remedy but ill-treatment ? and
so long as this treatment lasts; how shall that
desire discontinue ? They stancLin the relation
of cause and effectrand will for ever go on, or
cease together. ;
"It was-the opinion of Erhmett, that the legis¬
lative union was a measure more suited to
facilitate the despotism of the ministry, than to
-.strengthen the. dominion of England, . .Since
fhewabuse of power has always followed excess*
no less in nations than individuals, a restraint
upon human actions is salutary for all parties*
and the impediment that shall stop the career
of ministerial tyranny, will- be found to Work
best for the stability of the connexion. If this
m LIFE OF EMJ^ETT.
operate to the good of Ireland she will observe
it for its utility, an Irish parliament being then
its best preservative. If, on the contrary, it be
made, as at present, to sacrifice the manyffor
the few, it will be viewed'as a curse by the
Irish people-^an * evil that must be got rid ef,
rather than a good to be embraced and cherish¬
ed.
■11 At present we see those persons who deny a
parliament to Ireland on which to rest her peace
•and happiness, self-poised and -self-protected j
we- see them sedulous to change the state of the
question, and to represent the repeal of the
legislative union as a schism in the government.
They would limit the people of Ireland entire¬
ly to England for benefitsr—whence, then, have
come their wrongs ?• An Irish parliament, on
the contrary, would be a bond of liberal con-*
nexion 5 it would settle every question of do¬
mestic policy at home, prevent strife and re¬
crimination -between both counfriep, secure to
the affairs of Ireland, a degree of attention
'which however necessary, they do not and
cannot obtain among the-, weighty concerns of
a differeht people in a foreign legislature. It
would remove the. old opprobrious evil of legis¬
lation without representation; for wherever
JLIFS OF EMMETT.
this is partial arid foreign, it is inadequate: as
relates to Ireland, it is worthless mockery.
Why was a borough-constituency vicious, .but
because it sent men to make laws for the peo¬
ple who did not represent the people', who were
returned by a different body,, find intent upon
serving themselves .and their employers..
The attributes of genius are not rare among
the countrymen of Emmett, arid time is ,con¬
stantly developing the resources of mind. - The
labors of intellect press onward for. distinction,
While names of high endowments are" farced
bacjt to make room for new reputation. They
alone will be remembered who have acted with
an .impulsive power on the destinies of their
country and kind; Among those who .first
taught, how to overthrow the misrule of Ire¬
land, who exposed.its cause and,prepared its
cure, Emmett is distinguished. Jle had great-
influence in the adoption pf those measures
which are still at issue between Ireland and her
^ foes,-and' which, in' part obtained, in part with¬
held, are determinative of her future, happiness,
as-they shall .finally fall or .be signally success¬
ful*
PART III.
Preparations for -an outbreak—Devotion of tlie Patriots-
Cruelties of the day—Explosion of a Depot—The Ray of
attack ^approaches.
The different 'depots t>f Dublin, which Em-
mett hired for his**"purposed outbreak,'were, at
his sole expense, furnished with military- pikes-
and handles, ammunition- and'clothing. In
one of these depots gunpowder Was manufac¬
tured in-another, timber was prepared for con¬
structing-rpikes ; and in others, pikes, "fire-arms
and- stores- were deposited.
It must be observed of the numerous persons
connected' with those depots, that* heither the
ee'rtainty of an ample*reward, nop the Wavering
instability common"! o men 'efigaged m'danger*
ous designs,'could draw the 'discovery from the
impenetrable recesses of their fidelity: tin evi¬
dent .proof that the hearts of the people Were
with the project £ or, perhaps it was- that the
departments of the police of Dublin," were all
filled by men who had been deeply engaged in
the cruelties of the preceding rebellion, and
who, being on that account stigmatized and
detested by the people,* even those who were
LIFE OF EMMETT. 49
secretly inclined to- give information, were
not willing t6 unbosom themselves, to men
whom they regarded with so much horror.
W.e cannot resist the temptation to insert the
following narrative, as illustrative of the cruel¬
ties and abominations committed daily, and
with impunity, , upon the unfortunate people of
that, dreadful period." "It is from the pen of a
writer, who will not" fail to interest, as he was
an eye-witness to fhese revolting scenes :
" After walking about a mile, we came to a
neat thatched cabin, situated in a very seques¬
tered valley. A river ran before it, and. a few
aged trees shaded the simple roof. The door
was open, and on our entrance', a peasant rose
to receive us. He smiled as he handed me a
chair, and looked inquisitively at my companr
ion.
" 'Don't you recollect Mr. J ?' inquired
the exile. This interrogation was followed by
a momentary pause, during 'whifch Howlan
seemed lost in reflection,^after which he burst
into an exclamation of surprise and pleasure.
"'Oh! blud-an-oiihze !' He repeated several
times,is this yourself—your -own four bohes
\vholt? and sound after ail? Well, well, I knew,
I knew I should see you again, thbirgh I was
8
50 LIFE OF EMMETT.
certain you" were dead ; and many is the pater-
and-avi I "said for your soul, though I believe
you are a Protestant. But where's the harm
in that ? did you not fight like any Roman for
ould Ireland ? and" what more could a real true-
born Catholic do ? Troth, some of them didn't
do as much, the spalpeens, x>r we would'nt have
now to begin again.'
" So,.so, Howlan,' said the Exile, fyotl-
haven't yet learned to be loyal ?'
y 1 Loyal!' repeated the hero of Oulard, 'no,
in troth, for it is not in.my grain ; and faith, I
believe if I was paid for it, these stripes on
my back would not let, me. Oh, no, the crows,
will get white feathers before Denis Howlan
will forgive the Orangemen—bad luck.to them.'
" ' I recollect,' returned the Exile, 1 a part of'
your story, but the apprehensions I wag under
when I first heard it, prevented hie from at¬
tending, to the whole, i Was not your father
murdered V
' Murdherd'' repeated Howlan; c ay murcL
herd over and over again; and wasn't" I„miird-
herd myself.? .But/ he confinued^ 'Til just tell
it all here to you both.' Then drawing his
stool close to where "we sat, he proceeded :
" 1 My father, (Lord be merciful to his sowl
LIF^ OF EMMETT. 51
in glory I) kept a snug little farrfl eh the right-
hand side"of the rbad that goes from Gorey to
Ferns i and, though' I" say it,, there -\yas not a
•more sasty man in the county, of Wexford. I,
myself, was the yourigest of three sons and two-
daughters, and the devil a mere" genteeler fam¬
ily attended 'Mass rof 'ar Sunday than Paddy
HoWlali's. My two brothers were able, strap¬
ping fellows, and? faith, there* were worse boys
in the parish than inyself. You may be sure
We were real Croppies, and why but we should
fori our religion and country ?
'''The winter before the Rebellion, the Yeos*
were out every night, and "dreadful work they
made of* it—burning,/whipping, and shooting.
A poor Catholid couldn't live at all, at all; and,
as we expected that they would give'u's a call,
we. hid/our pikes and guns in the ditches, and,
to he sure, appeared as.innocent -ats Jambs. I
shall neVer forget the 15th of November; no,
never,.while there is a drop of Irish blood ill
my Soul for,* when I think of it, my brain
boils, and my very flesh' crpepsj all if there was
l blister all-over mb. Well, as F was saying,
on the 15th of November I was coming- home
w , 9 * ' " ' ' "" '
*A conteliiptuoua name- for yeometu
«2 LIFE OF EMMETX
from Ennjscorthy market, and being after tak¬
ing a glass" of the creature with one friend or
another, I was pretty merry, and to make the
road light, I was singing ' The Victim. of Ty¬
ranny J and the ould mare a-self was so pleased
with the tune, that she kept the track as straight
as a die, though the night was as dark as pitch.
" 'Just as I "came 'to the top of the bougha-
reen, that led. down to our house., -a fellow seiz¬
ed my beast by the halter, and,while you'd be
looking round you, a score of bayonets was
ready to pop-into poor Dennis. "" Hallo !" said
I, " what's this " You Popish rebel," cried
the officer, for it "was a party of the North Cork,
"what,song is-that yquwere singing?"
Och, nothing at all,", said I, "only Hew
words to *an ould tune.
. "Ah! then by —j—,"~said. he, you s^all
soon sirig another June,.unless you_ tell - us of
all the people you know to be United Irish¬
men."
" Faith, and^that's what I can soon do;" says
I, " for I know nobodyJ' ,The word yrasn't
well out,of my* mouth, when he ran his sword
into my arm, saying, " That's a tickler to"help
your memory." " Thank your honor," says
I, " but as ye are not Yeos,„I hope you will act
LIFE OF EMMETT".
63
decent, and let a poor boy pass: My name is
Howlan, and never did any man an injury."
" Howlan !" cried the officer, " You- are the
Very man we want. Have y6u not two broth¬
ers?" "Ay, and a father .too," I answered quite
fcalmly, though I was in# a terrible pickle, with
the blood streaming 'down my arm.
" "I was.then bidto'drive down to my fath¬
er's house, and -they all kqptTpiite close to me.
•The family were all in, bed, and I, * foolish
enough, called up my poor father, then seven¬
ty years of age, and my two "brothers. They
came out id to the lawn in'their shirts,'for they
were so'frightened they'forgot tb put on their
"clothes, and if they hadn't, they 'could not, for
want of time. -
" My father sa-idha had.no arms; and when
Tie protested, which wakthe tiuth, that he was
no United man, the sergeant knocked him down
with a pistol, and some of the soldiers began
kicking of him while he lay on* the ground.
My brothers, of c<5urse, (for what Christian
"would turh informer ?) refused to confess any
tiling, and accordingly the eldest was taken and
tied to a car, and a drummer-boyproceeded to
flog him at a desperate rate, while one of .the
&4 LIFE OF EMMETT.
party, to give him light, set fire to the barn.
As the flames.mourtted up to-the skies, I could
see my brother's bacb, hackled like a raw^gris-
Irin, while the'p&or fellow refused to gratify
hfs murderers with a single groan- My moth¬
er rushed out, and falling, on her knees, be^
seeching the villains to forbear,, but one of the
spldiers gave her a kick in the stomach, and
stretched her on the pavement:
" Knowing how soldiers then treated young
girls, I made signs to my sisters; who had come
to the door, to.shut it, and remain inside. They
did so, before the soldiers could, prevent the.m ;
and one of them having seen what I had done,
told the- others, and in a minute there were a
dozen stabs in my body. My eldest brother
was then released, and the other tied up -in his
place, when my father, who had recovered,
rushed forward and se-ized'thp djummef'^ arm.
Poor-man !' the savages had no pity on his tears,
and fie received several stabs I'
" Hera Denis- was overpowered by Bis feel¬
ings, and after*hastily wiping away one or 'two
natural drops from'.his cheek, continued : '
" ; I was now questioned about United men,
and arms, and as I also refused to make any
discovery, they 'took and. bound my hands be-
LIFE OF EMMETT. 55
hind me, and then,' taking the halter from the
mare's head,^ they placed it. around my neck,
and raising the car up,^ hung ^tae out of the
baekband. They were too cruel to le1> me die
a natural death,-euyl so cut, me down a few
minutes afore I went to Paradise. I can't tell
anything about that time^ but my ould mother
told me that my face was as black as a pot, and
my tongue a bundle long. The first thing.1 re-
Collect, after being hanged, w&s to see the- poor
ould house in flames, the soldiers having set
fire to it, to get my sisters out, but they were
disappointed, as the girls had'made their escape
while they w6re hanging me.
" 1 To make a long story short,.' continued
Denis, ' my father, mjsfejf, and two brothers
were thrown into, the cart, and marched off to
Fern. Next day my father died in the guard
house; and after a week's confinement, my
brothers and I sw§re turned out with pitched
cgps upon.our heads.*. We had nowno house,
*fti's said that the North. Cork Regiment were the in¬
ventors—but tlie.y certainly were'the introducers o£ ditch-
Cap torture- into the bounty of -Wexford. Any "person
having their bait cut short, (and'therefore called a Crop-
py, by which appellation the soldiery designated -a Uni¬
ted Irishman,J on being pointed, out by seme loyal neigh¬
bor, was immediately seized and brought into a guard
house, where eaps, either of coarse linen oivstroqg brown
pap t, besmeared inside with pitch, were* kept always
53 LIFE OF EMMETT.
no-home, lor my father's life being the term of
the lease, tho landlord had seized 011 our little
all, and so we-went to service, as tlid my sis-
4 f *J f
ters, my mother having died in a month after
my father. ' My brothers were long before the^r
recovered ; an/1 for myself, I'll feel, the effects
of that bloody night to the" day of my death.
"The tale of this-untutored peasarit,told in
his own vulgar, hut expressive language, pro¬
duced a painful interest on my feeiing£r while
it excited ray indignation to that 'degree of
frenzy, Which made me instantly deteimind
upon the Quixotic resolution of finding' c-ut the-
officer under whose command' the family of
Howlari had been toriured, and call him to an
account, or at least expose hkn to the %or.lcT.
Filled with this extravagant n6tion, I inquired
of Dennis, as we- walkeji.along, tyherfe the North
"Cork were n'cw sta-ticned.
" fc Lord bless your honor,1 replied Dermis,
' there's not a man of them 121 the -land o' 'the
living, for I was at the killing of thcm'alf "my-
, j~ ttl ZM- 1 . f ,
ready fbr service. Tiie unfoftunale'v ictim -hat} one of these;
well heated, compressed on-Ms head.: and A\ hen judged ef
a proper decree of codaesg, so that it could^uot easily "tie
pulled oil" the ssiierer was-tui'ned out amidst the horrid
aeehtinatlomvof the mercifess torturers, and to t*he view < f
vast numbers of people, who generally crowded to the guar-d-
house door, attracted by tLc afiiicling cries of the tormented.
LIFE OF EMMETT.
self—and quick work we made of it—on Ou-
lard Hill.'
" Oh, I remember," said I, " Mr. J spoke
of your generalship there. How was that ?
" 'Why,'" replied Dennis, ' when* 1. went to
sarvice, my master fived in the very parish with
Father Murphy, who, God bless him, coming
one day through Ferns, saw the Yeos shooting-
poor Catholics dike dogs, trying how many of
them a musket-ball would g*o through at once
so in the evening he.called his congregation
together "in the chapel. ' It was-as dark as bags
and not a candle lightning io'shoW us the wa"y
to say pur prayers. We were all silent as
death,, and you could hear a pin drop on the
floor while the pf iest was speaking. He toutd
us 'twas better to'die fighting for our religion
and co.untry, than to be butchered^ like sheCp by
the Orangemen.- He-said what was Gospel,
and faith we took his advice, anch marched- in
fine order after him, and he in -the middle of
us, to Oulard Hill, where we encamped for the
night. The Yeos fled like .murder at the sight
of us, for they #re the greatest coWards in the
world, and sent the sogers to-frighten us; but
faith, their day was passed, and once we burnt
the candle, we'd burn the inch. When the
58
LIFE OF EMMETT.
red coats appeared, our faces were all manner
of colors, and-many proposed to rim away. 'No,
no,'says I, ' the priest <and God are with us,
and what have we. to fear?* Hero is a uitch
and gravel hole, and lie m them till the 'sogers
come quite close, and when I cry out > Erin, go
bragh, let every man start up and use his plbe.
My advice was taken, and Father Mui'phy
blessed us-all. The sogers come up, -sure
enough, with a fellow like a turkey eock Strut¬
ting before them on his horse,.and when they
came quite near the, ditch, he -went behind
them,.and we could hear'the words,. "Heady,
present, fuel" Pop, pop, pop, went their mus¬
kets ; but faith, I Shouted out like a lion, Erin
go hragh* and it would do* your heart good to
see what sport w.e had. They weren't a
breakfast .for us, and I, 'had the pleasure,
thank God, of sticking firy pike into the ras¬
cally lieutenant who murdered myself and my
father.'"
The Government had, by the month <5f June,
discovered enough to quicken its diligence,, and
the officers of. the police appeared thencefor¬
ward more alert ami vigilant; n ot with stand-'
*Hay's History of the Insurrection in Wexford.
LIFE OF EMMETT. 59
ing which, it was difficult to bring them to.be¬
lieve that the project of insurrection yas on
foot. This state of delusion continued until
the fourteenth of July, tjxe anniversary of the
French Revolution, which opened .the eyes. off
many, and excited .a considerable degree of
alarm. Bonfires were publicly made in com¬
memoration of that event, and^ collections of
people, apparently strenuous-and decided, form-t
ed and partook in the festivity.
On the sixteenth, the depot of poyder On Pat¬
rick street blew up, in which, thqre were two
men nearly suffocated, one of vdipm, in throw¬
ing up.the window, cut the.aftery of his arm,
and bled tocjpath; the otherpyas takentprison¬
er. Emmett was so alarmed at the discoveries
this explosion yyoukl lead, to,, that he quitted
the house in Butterfield-La'ne, and took up his
permanent residence at the, depot in if ass-Jane.
He here had^a mattrass to .'sleep on, that lie
might be present,-night and day, to direct and
animate the workmen.
The interval of the seven days ensuing af¬
ter the explosion, was employed by Emmett
and his associates, either in deliberating on the
propriety of immediately flying to arms, or in
60 LIFE OF EMMETT.
concerting the most practicable mode of com¬
mencing their operations. It was ultimately
agreed upon to seize the several depots and
arsenals in the vicinity of Dublin; and above
all, it was universally determined to gain pos¬
session of the Castle, a^, in that case, it was
supposed they could more decidedly influence
the public mind by having the seat of govern¬
ment in their power.
As the day of attack approached, the great¬
er part of Emmett's adherents, contemplating
their danger, wished to defer the attempt. Em-
mett, however, was. peremptory- in the oppo¬
site way of thinking. He represented, with
an impetuosity not to be resisted, that the mi¬
litia, was about to be embodied; that the coun¬
try would be placed every day in a more un¬
assailable posture, and by its multiplied meas¬
ures of defence, become impfegnable.
The reader will not be displeased, probably,
with the following extract frorp. the pen of the
same writer, whom we have so often quoted,
as illustrative of the kind, generous and un¬
suspecting character of Emmett, evep under
the most difficult and trying circumstances:
" I learned from Dennis, that the conspira¬
tors met in a valley , not far from where we
LIFE OF EMMETT.
61
were, and that he was hastening to join them ;
I signified my readiness to attend him j and, as
Dennis was not a man of ceremony, he did not
stand long upon punctilios, but immediately
conducted me across a heathy and desolate hill,
towards the place of rendezvous.
" The night had closed around us as we ap¬
proached a mountain chasm, and, after scram¬
bling through a rude aperture in a stupendous
rock, we found ourselves in a. kind of natural
recess, formed by an amphitheatre of surround¬
ing hiBs, whose overhanging acclivities frown¬
ed in gloomy horror upon the little valley. By
the light of the stars we could discerm -some
persons' who had entered before us, proceeding
towards the opposite side, and we accordingly
followed in their footsteps. * We had not pro¬
ceeded far when the voice pf a person speaking
fell \ipon our ears, and I had not to listen long
before I recognized the deep but harmonious
accents of my friend. Emmetf^ as he addressed
the people around him,, who appeared to he
about the number of five hundred. His har¬
angue was on popular topics, of Irish tgriev-
ances, and he spoke with a fervency ©f manner
that showed him sincere in the sentiments he
62 LIFE OF EMMETT.
littered. When he concluded, Mai achy took
his station, and proceeded kto address the peas¬
antry. X could not but observe in his speech,
superior ingenuity. Emmett was mor'e^ elo¬
quent, but less artful} more impassioned, but
less logical. There was sincerity in every*
word he pttered, and patriotism appe'ared to
predominate m every measure he recommended,
whilst humanity breathed throughout" his dis¬
course. But Malachy addressed' himself di¬
rectly to the^passions^ and so intimately Blend¬
ed religion with politics^ thafhis auditors could
scarcely suppress the operation of their feel-*
ings, and when lie concluded, an involuntary
burst of applause followed.
"Dennis, who had listened with the utmost
attention fo both speakers, now took'me by the
hand and led me into ^lie throng. Malachy
cast his eye upon me, and instantly exclaimed^
<A Spy!'
"£A Spy!' was re-echoed by a hundred voices,
and in a moment the deferential horror of all
present caused a circle to be formed' around*me,
every man being eager to get as far a*s possible
from what ho considered 'the contagion of my
presence.
" The indignation I felf at Malachy's imputa-
LIFE 0^ EMMETT. 63
tion for a moment deprived me of speech, and
fellas if riveted to the place, when Emmett
kindly stepped forward and took me by the hand.
' My friends,' said he,' there is' some mistake ;
Mr. K is'a young man of liberal princi¬
ples' and high notions of honor, and I am cer¬
tain that he is incapable of betraying our secret,
much less acting a Spy upon" our proceed¬
ings.' 'You do me butjustice,' I replied, 'for
I came here this night to learn- if your cause
was sueh'as required "or deserved the assistance
of a freeman's-arm, ahid n6t basef'y" to betray
my countrymen; for I trUst- those' that -surround
me will hot refuse me the fraternal embrace be¬
cause f was'bom in England, while my parents
and heart'were ever Irish/ "This remark elic¬
ited much applause, and I proceeded ' I trust
that the person' who has imputed -such, a base
motiye-to my presence here, has mistaken' me,'
'You are right, Godfrey,''interrupted" Mal'a-
chy, with the utmost- familiarity, ' I did indeed
mistake yo'u for another person.'
' I thought as much,'"said Efrfmett,'and let us
notv rejoice that our cause*, the noblest in
which man was ever engaged, has received the
acquisition of a pure spirit,"who feels indignant
at ohr wrongs, and who burns to avenge them.'
64 LIFE OF EMMETT.
After this conference, many of his partisans
slunk away, and declined all farther participa¬
tion in the affair; others, however, and those
the majority, resolutely determined, to follow
the fortunes of their beloved leader, and declared
that they would not desert him although they
advanced with the certainty of utter destruction
to themselves or their cause. The die was cast,
and all further reflection was. repelled by the
ardor and firmness of resblution.
Fortune, on this occasion, not-to-.be accused
of fickleness, seems never, from his first embark¬
ing on this desperate adventure, to have been
for a single moment, auspicious to-the devoted
Emmett. His negotiation - with Dwyer- had
failed, and a plan, even" more specious, and on
which he now grounded the most.sanguine hopes
of success, proved equally fallacious*. A part
of the plan of general attack determined upon,
•.vas to force the batteries and stores at the
mouth of the harbor, of Dublin,- by the assist¬
ance of those working people from the counties
of Wicklowand Wekfor.d, who, in the months
of June and July, repair in considerable num¬
bers, for the purpose of hay-making, to the
neighborhood iff Dublin. Thq minds, of this
LIFE OF EMMET"? 6 5
class of men appeared* by no- means more soft¬
ened, nor their passibns less alive to every mo¬
tive of discontent, whether real or imaginary,
than they were at the period of the rebellion,
in 1798, which they had principally supported,
and -the daring conduct of which had prepar¬
ed" and habituated them for similar encounters;
their enmities were fierce and vehement; their,
courage and resolution undoubted ; it was there-
forbmajural that they should -be selected as most
useful and valuable auxiliaries. , For some
time they had manifested the most cordial con¬
currence ; but on the 22d of July,- the day be¬
fore that appointed for action, they, for Seme
cause tinknown, formally declared their aban¬
donment, of the design.- They did not, - how¬
ever, accompany their refusal with any discov¬
ery of the^plot.
For seme"days prior to the .23d of July, Em-
mett passed entirely in his 'depot, reposing at
night ci! a mattrass thrown upon the ground,
amid the implements of -death which he- had
there collected."
In a back house, recommended by Its seclud¬
ed and uninviting situation, were about a dozen
men at work; some busy making cartridges,
while others were casting bullets'; some fabri-
66 LIFE. OF EMMETTi
eating rockets, and others making pikes. The
heaps of muskets, and other war-like weappns,
scattered around, served to inspire a feeling of
awe in theglomy mansion of incipient treason,
singularly contrasted with the thoughtless lev¬
ity depictedvupon the 'half*intoxicated counten¬
ances of those engaged in preparing the instru¬
ments of death.
'My friend, en seeing all safe,,.could not con¬
ceal his satisfactionand having distributed
some money amongst the men, he dismissed
them. • As 'they withdrew,lie bolted the door,
and throwing himself upon, a rude seat, seemed
lost in the intensity of his feelings. I was not
less serious : for the workmen, the arms, • and
the gloom of the placer had deeply affected.my
spirits,-and brought upon my mind a despond¬
ing impression, not unmixed with sensations
of fear.
" My friend," said Emmett, after a silence of
several minutes, how ungrateful are mankind!
how thoughtless are nations! Th'a philosopher
is neglected, and the patriot unhonored; yet,
without knowledge and liberty, how valueless
all the-possessions of. man ! How little do
those who profit by wisdom, or* glory in the
possession of freedom, know of the student's
LIFE OF EMMETT. c?
privations, or the conspirator's, danger! and
without study and treason, how few -could he
either wise or free ? Nations, exulting in the
enjoyment of their rights, but too oftbn forget
those to whom they- are indebted for the bless¬
ing, Englishmen continually boast of. their,
'liberty, yet with ho w'many Britons are the names
of Sydney and' Hampden as vague as those of
Gallitzan and William Tell ? The sound is
familiar, but-it scarcely raises a single associa¬
tion."
r " The hope of applause," I replied, " though
it may stimulate our exertions, should never #be
allowed to direct our auctions, and: he that is
honored by the discerning may. readily dis¬
pense with the plaudits of the Vulgar."
."True," he returned, " but those .who bene¬
fit mankind may at least expect gratitude ; and
if the danger encountered by the patriot may
be allowed to enhance the debt, I know of
none who has so large a demand as'-the conspi¬
rator, whose object is .universal good". After
once he imparts his schemes .to-others,- lie. lives
in-continual apprehensions ;• every -stranger is
an object of suspicion ; every-incident is preg¬
nant with danger. Thermfstakes of befriends
may ruin hirri, and a concealed enemy may
6"5 LIFE OF EMMETT.
lurk amongst his associates ; for, as his designs
require numerous abettors, it is very. difficult
to select many men* without including some
•traitor ; and one informer is sufficient to blest
all His hopes—as. a single spark will cause the
explosion of the largest powder magazine. I
have' latterly felt so acutely the uncertainty of
any situation, that I am determined to hasten
the event of our plan; for 'any conclusion
would be preferable to protracted' suspense.
" I know not," I replied, " whether it is de¬
sirable to .persist m ydur scheme, for the reason¬
ing of our friend, the Exile, never appeared tc5
me so rational as since I entered this depot of
Rebellion. A thousand thoughts start up in
my mind, which lean.neither allay nor satis¬
factorily accouilt for. These scattered Instru¬
ments of destruction proclaim, that in the event
of an insurrection,"numbers must die ; but how
many are'to taste the bitterness of death," defies
human calculation. Ourselves, too, may be
among the failed, and, what is.mcre, the cause
pray be unsuccessful."
" All these," interrupted Emmett, " depend
upon events and circumstances, about which
we can- kpow nothing positive ; His for us on¬
ly to ascertain the probability of success, an J
LIFE OF EMMETT% C9
to persevere in the course which honor and du¬
ty point out.Enough for us to know that Ire¬
land requires the standard of revolt to be raised
by some one, and that neither defeat nor -tri¬
umph can add to or diminish bur consciousness
of rectitude. Impediments may crowd the long
perspective before- us, but beyond these are
glory, honors,, immortality—rewards, for ob¬
taining which no sacrifice is too great—no en-
terprize too dangerous.
" Let iiqt,"' he continued, " m-y apprehen¬
sions,too carelessly expressed, damp the ardor
of your soul, for the reasons, which first induc¬
ed you to embark m this best of causes, are the
same now as.,then, whatever arguments you
may have heard to the contrary. We are
young and .unincumbered ; defeat can neither
distress our friends nor ruin ourselves, for
what have, we to lose but life ? And life is held
oh so uncertain a tenure, that a thousand daily
accidents may deprive u§ of it, and that too so
suddenly and so soon as to.leave our''memory
without an accompanying deed to keep it afloat
on the stream of time. Admitting for an ii>
staht that we shall (which Heaven forbid!) be
unsuccessful, think riot that our" endeavors
will be forgotten, or that our country will cease
70 ' LIP® OF EMMETT,
tohemember us. No, my friend, -the- tyrant
laws may condemn us, and tyrant authority
asperse and vilify out characters 5 hut rely on
it, that Irishmen shall reverence the names of
K andEmmett while patriotism has admi¬
rers, or Ireland a friend. Onr country has
never beenjungrateful, and so few have been
her benefactors, fliat she is prodigal of thanks
for even dubious favors. Of us she can have
but one opinion, for ingenuous enmity cannot
attribute any but laudable motives tfo-our de¬
signs. For Ireland I will spend my private
fortune, and 'for Ireland I shall, please God,
venture my life. Kosciusko is a name as be¬
loved in Poland as that of Wasington in Amer¬
ica.
"But reverse, this gloomy picture, and look
—as humanity should ever look—upon the
btight side of thihgs; for defeat $oes not' al¬
ways terminate daring enterprises. Reflect
upon the consequences of success ; our ene¬
mies vanquished, our arms triumphant, and Ire¬
land free ! Our names 'assbciated wifji the
liberators of .nations, and ourselves overwhelm¬
ed with the grateful benedictions of an "eman¬
cipated people, Olir youth will increase the
general wonder, and the means by which we
LfFE to fiMMETE, VI
shall achieve such illustrious actions will aug¬
ment the pleasing amazement. Add* to this
the exalted Stations we shall occupy, and the
joyful approbation of our'-owii bosoms; and
tell me, is not our present situation, takiffg all
thipgs into -account, one that 'might tfrell be
envied ? Defeat cannot deprive uS of honor,
nor death off'glory; while success, if obt^ihedr
has in .store fou us all those rewards which ev¬
er graced the most fortunate of mankind.
Opportunities for great actions," says the
moralist, " occur but seldom, and surely he ill
deserves honor who lets the opportunity pass
when it presents itself. Glory has found us,
and let us embrace her ; the tide of our affairs
is at the flood, and let us embark upon the
waves of fortune: we-are all 'attended, and
Heaven seems propitious. A thousand years
may pass, and a* more favorable moment may
not again occur.
" What, still thoughtful ? Oh, I sed, Miss
J has whispered, something iiito your ear
which has operated unfavorably upon your
mind. Well, I can. excuse yo.u, for a being of
such perfect loveliness might well disturb a
hermit's prayer, though I will not allow her to
divert a patriot's purpose."-
12 LIFE QF EMMETT.
".Then?",said I„ " you will not pardon love
iii a conspirator ?"
" I can not only pardon it," he replied, " but
sincerely wish thai the tender passion may be
always blended with the amor* patriae., for he
that anticipates the commendation of a beloved
mistress, can never act dishonorably. My
friend," he continued, rising and taking me by
the hand, " I too have one whose praise I wish
tt>-merit, and whose exaltation, next to my"
country, is the first wish of my heart.- She is
kind, she is lovely, and Heaven only* knows
how good !"
"And yet," I interrupted, "you would fling
away this jewel, without" having the untutored
Indian's apology, for you know its value."
" I know its value," he rejoined, "and, be¬
cause I know it, I wish to place ft where its
worth may be appreciated. The stagnant vale
of inglorious ease is for those domestic enam¬
ored soul? who are content to pass a life of
inactive worthlessness, and who wish to enjoy
affection without having merited love. Mine is
a higher arhbitipn: I must make myself worthy
of the woman of my .choice, and the glory
which'sheds its lustre on the .husband shall re¬
flect its splendof on the wife. Heaven forbid
LIFE OF EMMETT.
IB
that an excusable passion should thwart the
great design of my life^ or cause me for an in¬
stant to neglect my country's good for the pur¬
pose of promoting my own personal advantage.
What earthly possessions could equal the glory
of having freed Ireland from foreign, domina¬
tion ? and, though failure might partially ob-»
struct its rays, we never can be deprived of the
consciousness of having deserved it."
PART IV.
The attack-—Failure—Dispersion of the Patriots—Em-
mett's attachment for Miss Curran—Attempts to visit
her, and is captured—Major Sirr.
T*he magazine which Emmett had prepared
for the outbreak was by no means despicable-
It comprised the following warlike implements:
145 lbs. of cannon powder in bundles,
11 boxes of fine powder,
100 bottles filled with powder, enveloped
with musket balls, and covered with canvass,
246 hand grenades, formed of ink bottles,
filled with powder, and encircled with buck¬
shot,
62000 rounds of musket ball cartridges,
3 bushels of musket balls,
A quantity of tow mixed with tar and gun¬
powder, and other combustible matter, for
throwing against woodwork, which when ignit¬
ed, would cause an instantaneous conflagra¬
tion sky rockets, and other signals, &c., and
false beams filled with combustibles; and no
less than 20,000 pikes.
This superabundance of ammunition is an
evident proof of Emmett having promises of
HFE OF EMMETT. 75
large supplies of men, in. which- promises hi
was fatally disappointed; for instead of having
a force of thousands at his eommand, he could
only muster a few hundreds on the evening of
the engagement.
11 On the morning of -the appointed day,
(23d of June, 1803) for this momentous enter¬
prise, " continues the same writer from whom
we have been quoting, " the Kildare men were
seen directing their hurried steps towards the
Capital. They had collected about the depot
in Marshalsea-lane and Thomas-street, in un¬
usual crowds, when about five o'clock they
were persuaded by 'their* officers. to. return
home. This, with the defection of the Wick-
low and Wexford laborers, would have deters
red a less ardent spirit than that of Emmett's
from proceeding. His, though damped, never
quailed under the danger that this disappoint¬
ment was likely-to bring'on him and his fol¬
lowers.
Towards dusk he directed the distribution
of pikes amongst the waiting crowds in Thomas
street, and proceeded to make the necessary ar¬
rangements for the contemplated attack.
On th'e night of the 2£d, we assembled at
the depot, and, though every thing wore a
76
LIFE QF EMMETT.
gloomy aspect^. resolved to1 persever e. The
different leaders-- received their instructions ;
some were jn -assemble their forces in the Bar¬
ley Fields, now Mountjoy Square, some on the
Coal Q,uay, and others in different .parts of the
town. * These were to act only -in case of see¬
ing/a third rocket, which Emmett was to send
up when he considered the time arrived for
the commencement of hostilities. Emmett,
Malachy, Bryan, and I, were to head the forces
which were to attack the castle. ,
Every thing being .thus arranged, I bid my
companions farewell for the night, and return¬
ed to my lodgings. 1 could sleep but little, and
when I awoke the .next morning, the consci¬
ousness of being on the-eve of a great event,
filled my mind with gloomy apprehensions.
To reflect, however, was now useless, and
without giving my thoughts time to inform
against my purpose, I .hurried to the depot,
where I found all in confusion. The place
was thronged by insurgents^ who had arrived
from the country, and whose presence served*
to obstruct the workmen* Malachy and Em¬
mett, with astonishing firmness, gave direc¬
tions,- andT was'handed the printed proclama¬
tion to read.
LIFE OF EMMETT.
77
As I lookfed upon the 'expiessive counten¬
ances of-the desperate and infatuated men
around me, I could not rCsist the gloomy" pre¬
science which the scene was calculated to im¬
part. It was a moment I would' not wish to
go through again, there was so much of fore¬
boding evil—so much of personal misfortune
to -be apprehended—and so much toil and peril
which must be endured, whether the rebellion
triumphed or was crushed. My imagination,
like a prism, collected all the rays of evil from
probable discomfiture, and. showe'd -me, in ag¬
gravated hor-ror, all the dangers I' had to en¬
counter. However', to recede was now impos¬
sible, without incurring the imputation of cow¬
ardice, or what was more intolerable, the sus¬
picion of my associates. 'Actual hostility was
preferable to either of these; and, making a
virtue of necessity, I recalled the memory of
those conspirators who-had been successful,
and fortified ray resolution by anticipating the
same fortune, thoflgh every thing around might
have taught a rational man the extravagant
folly -of hoping to subvert a powerful govern¬
ment with a few hundred men, partially armed.
These, it is true, we thought/had only to raise
the standard of rebellion, and thousands were
73 LIFE OF EMMETT.
readf. to support it/butln future, who will rely
upon the promises of conspirators ?"
About six o'clock, Emmett,/Malaehy, one orr
two others, and myself, put on- our green uni¬
form, trimmed with .gold-lace/and selected our
arms.* The insurgents,-who had alt day been
well plied with whiskey, began to- prepare .'for
commencing- an attack upon the Castle ; and
when-all was ready, Emmett made an animat¬
ed address to the- conspirators. At eight o'clock
precisely, we sallied out of the depot, and when
we arrived in Thomas Street, the insurgents
gave three deafening cheers.
The consternation excited by- our presence
defies description. -Every, avenue .emptied its
curious hundreds, and-almost every window
exhibited half a dozen inquisitive heads, while
peaceable shopkeepers ran to their doors, and
beheld with amazement a lawless band of arm¬
ed insurgents, in the midst of a peaceable city,
an hour at least before dark. .The .scene a)
first might have appeared amusing to a careless
spectator, from the singular dubious character
which the riot worn; but when the rocket 'as¬
cended, .and burst over the heads of the people,
the aspect of. things -underwent an immediate
and wpnderfui Change. The impulse of the
LIFE OF EMJIETT. 79
moment was self-preservation; and those who,
a few minutes before, seemed to lo.ok .on with,
vacant wonder, now assumed a face of horror>
and fled with precipitation. The wish to es-^
cape was simultaneous, and the eagerness with,
which the people retreated from before us im¬
peded"- their flight, as thfey crowded upon one
another in the entrance of alleys, courtways,
and lanes ; while the- screams of.women and
children were frightful- and heart-rending.
"To the, Castle! " cr-ied -our enthusiastic
leader, drawing his sword, and. his followers ap¬
peared-to- obey; hut when we -reached the
Market-house our adherents had'wonderfully
diminished, there not being more than twenty
insurgents with 'us.
- "Fire the rocket!" cried Malachy.
" Hold awhile," said Emmett,.snatching the
match from the man's hand who was about ap¬
plying it. " Let no lives be unnecessarily lost.
Run back and seer what detains the-men."
Malachy'obeyedand we remained near the
'Market-house, waiting* their arrival-until the
soldiers approached.
" Oiir causeds lest! " exclaimed Emmett,
snatching the rockets from the man's hand
faho carried them, and trampling them under
80
LIFE CF E3IMETT.
his feet, h'e continued, " Let our'friends at a
distance escape; comrades provide^ for yout
own safety."
A skirmish now .ensued, and we .succeeded
in forcing our way into Francis-street, bujUhad
not-proceeded far .before- we saw- another party
of soldiers advancing against us from * the
Coombe..
*'.This way, sir !" cried a voice I had heard
before, and Denis Howlan seized my arms, and
pulled me into a street^Plunkei-street;) full of
old-clothes shops.- Ab.ouJ; a dozen doors down
•vVe turned into a shop, Denis asked as .we en¬
tered, ".Friend.or foe " Ifriend!" cried an
old. man, hurrying us into a back parlour, and
then up stairs. " The roof, the -roof," hp.whis¬
pered ; and. accordingly we made our exit
thropgh a donnan window.- In the gutter,
between the houses, we found three men, who
had sought that place of safety; and, having
also danger to-apprehend, we%to©k, like them-, a
recumbent posture.
Throughout the night Our^ars were-assailed
with noises like tho^e of a town suddenly at¬
tacked—bells ringing—drums -beating, and all
the -clamor of war—while-an occasional 'shot
announced that* our danger was not over. My
LIFE OF EMMETT.
companions sent up incessant prayers for the
safety of their enthusiastic leader, and, as X
loved the man, I heartily joined in their obser¬
vations.
It was during the progress of the insurgents
from the depot, that the attention of the rear
was diverted by the arrival of an equipage ; a
moment's enquiry satisfied the. mob it waS that
of the lord chief justice of Ireland. ' A halt was
instantly called, .disordej- and tumdlt prevailed;
the heads of the advancing party immediately
returned upon their steps, and ,the massacre of
the venerable Lord Kil warden, was called for
and eohimitted by some cold-blooded ruffians
amongst them!
It is universally -agreed that the murder of
this excellent, man was the unpremeditated act
of a ferocious- rabble ; but there are various ac-
cpunts of their probable motives in wantonly
sacrificing so upright and* humane a judge to
their fury. A popular explanation of, thjs is,
that the perpetrators mistopk him for -another
- person. There is also an account which ad¬
mits the mistake in the first instance, but sub¬
joins other particulars, which appear sufficiently
probable; and as some of the facts, of which
there is no doubt, reflect the highest honor upon
82 LIFE OF EMMETT.
Lord Kil warden's memory, the whole shall be
here given;
In the ye'ar 1795, when he was attorney
general, a number of young men (all of whom
were between the ages of fifteen and twenty.)
were indicted for High treason. tJpon the day
appointed for their trial, they appeared in the
dock, wearing shirts with tuckers and open col¬
lars, in the manner usyal with boys. When
the chief justice of ,th*e King's Bench, before
whom they were to he tried, came into court,
and observing them, he called out, " Well, Mr.
Attorneyj I suppose you're teady to go 'on yrith
the trials df these tuckered -traitors ?'.' The at¬
torney-general was teady, and had attended for
the purpose; "but indignant and disgusted- at
hearing such language from the judgment seat,
he rose and replied, "No, my lord, I am net
ready; and (added he, in a low tone to one of
the prisoner's counsel-who was near him) if I
have any power to save the lives'of these boys,
whose extreme youth I did not before observe,
that man shall never have the gratification of
passing sentence upon a single one of those
tuckered traitors." He performed his promise,
and soon after-procured pardons for them all
upon "the condition" of their Expatriating them-
LIFE OF EMMETT. 85
selves forever \ but one of them obstinately re¬
fusing to'accept the pardon, upon that condi¬
tion, "he'was tried,' convicted and executed.
Thus far the* fdct upon- credible authorities ;
what follows is'given as &n unauthenticated re¬
port." After "the death "of this young man, his
relatives,*it is said, readily listening to ev'ery
misrepresentation- whielf flattered their resent-
*ment, became persuaded that the attorney-gen¬
eral had selected him- alone to suffer the utmost
severity of the law. One of these, (a person
named Shannon) was an insurgent on the 23d
oT July, and "when "Lord Kilwarden, hearing
the" popular cry of vengeance, exclaimed from
"hiscarriage, "it i§I, Kilwarden, chief justieeof
th'e King's Bench 1" " Then!" cried but Shan¬
non, "you're the man that I want!" 'and
plunged a pike into his lordship's body.
It was at this period, it* is asserted, that Mr.
Emniett, and' the other leaders, who had been
somewhat more than an hour engaged in a task
far beyond. their powers, fetired' in'despair at
finding all commahd disregarded, all efforts to
producb subordination ineffectual ;*and -their
favorite project of seizing the castle rejected for
the slightest opportunity that "occurred of in¬
dulging jthe predatory disposition of their asso-
84 LIFE OF EMMETT.
^ciates to rapine and murder. „ .It has been urged
hi.their favor, that shocked and disgusted at
the murder of Lord ITil warden, the' chiefs in¬
stantaneously came to the resolution of aban¬
doning their unprincipled followers. ,
A detachment of the regular army coming
up now, commenced a.brisk fire on the remain¬
ing insurgents, and ohjiged them, .after a short
resistance,.to seek safetyun flight. A"party of
soldiers, stationed at the Cpombe, under Lien-
tenant Douglas, was attacked' by the mob who
were retiring from Thomas-street, and made to
-give way after , a "severe skirmish. At this at¬
tack the bravery of a vpnerable.old lnan shone
conspicuous} his son was attacked and" sorely
pressed by the bay-onet of ope of the soldiers}
and would inevitably Jiave been sacrificed,, had
not the parent, who saw' his danger, ,«stept-in
and received the blow intended for the son.
The soldier suffered the fate he gave -y he
was piked instantaneously - by the infuriate
youth, who retired with agonised feelings,
leaving the. two bodies side by side—sad me¬
mentos of the effects, of bad laws and misgov-
ernment. It was never "exactly known the
numbers of livens lost on this night j it is sup-,
.posed, however, there could not be less than
tlFE 0F EMMETT. 85
eighty, including the loss on both sides. 'Em-
metfc fled to the mountains"he arrived in time
to prevent a contemplated -rising of the insur¬
gents.-, Immediately after, he- and the other
leaders in the conspiracy met in a glen in the
Wicklow mountains, to consult on plans of
future operations*
We had just gained the ascent of a lofty
hil), on our-way to- the .place ©f, meeting, when
p. shrill whistle,, apparently not far distant,
brought, us -to a full stop, and ih-an instant, a
,dozen men started up, as if by ,st>me magical
agency from the heath abound us. -"Your
name and-business ?" demanded a gloomy-leok-
ing figure who stood before us, wrapped up in
a great cleak.
" Our "names and business ?"• repeated ""Denis;
"'mp.yhe we've, neather; what would you have
then V
"Yopr life!" replied our - interrogator, ap-.
proaching us \vith a pistol in 'each. hand.
" Hold !" exclaimed a man rushing between
us, "these are friends.,. You spalpeen, don't
you know Denis Howlan?"
"Faith,Captain Dwyer," sajd my compan¬
ion, with-the utmost sang tfroidy "it.just is
Denis Howlarx .himself, tmd this is a.'real friend
86 LIFE OF EMMETT.
of Giniral' Emmett, 'though if is riot himself
that's irf it as he hasn't got on his own clothes."
•"No matter for that," replied Dwyer, "hast¬
en to the glen. The "council are meeting, and
I am here to prevent intruders—pass on—good
night—Babes* to»your cover."
-In .the glen, as the Outlaw had informed us,
we found several persons assembled f and . when
my name was announced, orie-of them advan¬
ced from a circle formed""round him, and seiz¬
ed my hand—it was. the-unfortunate enthusiast,
Robert Emmett. Has manlier was most kind
and affectionate, and he congratulated me, With
every demonstration of sincerity, on niy 'escape
from the slaughter of the preceding evening.
He lamented the -fate of ^lalachy and Bryan,
and seemed deeply affected at the discomfiture
of his -scheme.
I soon learn'ed that my friend, with some
others, had escaped to these hills on Saturday
night, in time to prevent a contemplated rising,
of the insurgentsf and had met, this evening,,
the leade.rs in the conspiracy, to consult on.
*Thefc rebel outlaws, who took up'their abodes in the
mountains - and fastnesses of Wexford- and Wicklow, af¬
ter 1798, ludicrously called themselves "The Babes of the
Wood."
LIFE OF EMMETT. 81
plans' of future operations. „ Most of them re¬
commended vigorous measures; and strenuous¬
ly advised "ait immediate attack ori Wicklow,
Arklow,.&,c. stating that all the kingdom was
ripe for revolt. The time had- passed for Em-
"mett to'credit such sweeping assertions, and
though he did hof contradict his friends, he
^unhesitatingly condemned the having any fur¬
ther recourse to hostilities.* "For,," said he,
" defeated in our first grand attempt, all fur¬
ther 'endeavors must,be futile: Our enemies
are armed; our friends are dispirited; and.our
only hope is.'noiv in* patience-. "The justice of
bur cause must one day triumph, and let us
nbt indiscreetly protract the period by any pre¬
mature endeavors to accelerate it. INo doubt I
could, in" forty-eight* hours, wrap* the whole
kingdom in "the-flames of rebellion; but as I
have no ambition beyond the good of my coun¬
try, best study her iiiterest,'and the interest of
freedom, by declining to elevate my name' up-
on: the -ruin of thousands, and afford our tyrants
an apology, to"draw another chain aroufid un¬
happy Ireland. • In revolts, the first blow de-»
cides the contest-—we have aimed one, and misr
sing * the mark, let us retire unobserved, and
leave the enemy ignorant of the hand that 'was
88 LIFE OF EMMETT.
**" ' »
raised for their destruction. - Impenetrably set
creoy .surrounds all our measu'res ; the loss- we
have sustained is inconsiderable ; and, unac¬
quainted with their own danger, and the ex¬
tent of-our resources, the tyrants of Ireland will
relapse into false - security, and afford Us, per¬
haps, sooner than we imagine, another oppor¬
tunity to a.ttack the/hydra of oppression. Let
me, therefore, my friends,, advise you to act
with'that prudence which becomes men en¬
gaged in the grandest of all causes, the libera¬
tion of theirbountry. Be cautious, be silent?
and do not afford our enemies any ground for
either tyranny or suspicion j but, above all,
never forget that you are- United Irishmen,
sworn- to promote the liberty of your country
by all the-means'in your power.." " . A
fil have now relieved my bosom fromalpad
of apprehension, and in preventing the revolt of
last night froffi" assuming the form of rebellion,
I am. conscious of having saved the lives of
thousands .of -my fellow-countrymen, Wljen
the' libeller of my name and intentions shall
charge the' blood of yesterday to my-jnemory,
I hope there will not be wanting some one to
recollect, that if a little has been shed through
my means-, I have saved the effusion of one
EIFE OF EMMETT,
89
hundred times as much, on, which I might have
floated to a disreputable notoriety.
"Over my futute destiny F*a,te has 'thrown a
veil which mortal eyes cannot penetrate.
Should I succeed in evading" the pursuit of-my
enemies', you may expect to see me once more
a^med .in the cause of Ireland; but should-J.fall
on the scalfoLd, let not the .coward or the knave
intimidate-you fromUgain and again appealing
to Heaven in behalf of your rights and liberties
-by.appealing to my recent failure,. Oh! I be¬
seech you,* as friendsan&.fellow-patriots,'.to be*
lieve me, and in the name.of our 'common coun¬
try I charge.you* transmit" it to your "Children,
that, had I only one .thousand pounds more,
and another -thousand men, I had overthrown
the JTemple of despotism,. and given liberty to
Irelan.d. My plan was an admirable, one, .but
there, was failure in every part, arid froni these
defects let future patriots learn to prevent simi¬
lar consequences: Our attempt will not be un¬
productive of good; our.go.vernment wilHearn
from- it, that they .will never be secure while an
Emmett is in -existence, and the. 'conspirator
will see, that tens of thousands -niay knowjbis
secret witlrput-even one . being -found capable
of betraying- it. Gentlemen, you will "now
90 LIFE OF EMMETT.-
loofc to your owfi safety, and as for me,.I-shall
do the best 1 can to quit thje country, in the
hope of again meeting you under more happy
auspices."
He spoke in a subdued and feeling tone, apd
as he bade them all farewell,-he appeared deep¬
ly affected. After-some hesitation,'his. advice
was acquiesced inland the assembly began to
separate, two anci three at*a time*
E.ramett was now .pressed- to. make his escape
before government ".obtained information re¬
specting his place of concealment; Em oppor¬
tunity then offered of hjs doing §o, as several
fishing Smacks lay off the -coast, the,, owners*of
which were ingurgentsi .He repliqd. to-his
friends who were pressing him -—
" I shall follow your, advice .in a few days;
but I cannot yet quit Ireland. Excuse my ob¬
stinacy, but there is* one to whom I must bid
an eternal farewell, before the terrors of govern?
ment" shall force me into exile. Why should I
refuse to acknowledge the cause ? for I am not
ashamed of a weakness that compete me to do
an act of justice—to beg, and, 'if possible,-to
obtain forgiveness from a .wofhan whom I have
unintentionally injured-—whom I have loved so
\velly that I must once" more see her, hear her,
LIFE OP EMMETT. 91
and converse with -her, though- ten thousand
deaths awaited' on the interview.. You now
see, ray frendsrthe cause "of my not complying
with your advice, and though you should con-
dQimj. my notions as extravagant, I cannot con-,
sent to forego my resolution., 7
The lady to, yffiom poor Emmett was so en¬
thusiastically (.attached, - was the youngest
daughter of. thp'-celebratfed. Curran; and, if re¬
port may be credited, she 'was every way
worthy of a heart so fond, so gentle and so no¬
ble, as that of Robert Emmett..*
.There is410 doubt-but Emmett could have
-escaped thewigilance of the officers of the law,
but for his1 determination to-have an interview
with; his lpved. "He could not leave his native
isle without bidding a last adieu to her he so
dearly loved. *In his attempt to do this, he took
refuge in a house that belonged to his father in
an adjoining Village to. Mr! Curran's residence.
Here hp wrote several letters to Miss C ,
and while -anxiously awaiting an answer, the
house he was in, Was suddenly surrounded by
police officers, .headed'by the celebrated Major
■SiRR', whor TUshing into the apartmbnt, seized
him as-he was sitting down td dinner.
'Mr. Curran^ in the bases 6f Hevey vs. Sirr,
92
LIFE'OF EMMETT.
thus characterizes this nptorious individual:—
It was at this aad crisis (1798) that Major Sirr,
from gn* obscure individual, starte.d into .notice
an,d consequence. It is in the.hot-bed- of pub¬
lic calamity that such inauspicious products -are
accelerated without being matured. * From be¬
ing a town-major, a • name- scarcely legible in
the-list of public incumbrances, he became all
at once invested .with all tHe real powers of the
most absolute authority4.
With this gentleman's extraordinary eleva¬
tion began the story of the sufferings and ruin
of Hevey. A. man was prosecuted, by the
.state ; Hevey, y ho 'was accidentally present at
the trjal, knowing the witness for'the prosecu¬
tion to be a person of infamous character, men¬
tioned' the circumstance in court. He was
sworn, and on his evidence -the prisoner was
acquitted. In a day or two after, "Major Sirr
met Hevey in the street,_ asked.how he dared
to interfere in "his business? and swore, by
G—d, he would teach- him how to .me.cfdle with
'his people/ On the following evening poor
Hevey was dogged in-the dark into some lonely
alley—there he was seized,, he *knew not by
whom, nor. what authority—his crime he soon
learned: it was treason he had committed
LIFE <3F:EMMETT:
93
against the majesty ©f Major Sirr, He was
immediately conducted to- a• place of imprisons
ment in the castle yard, called- the provost. Of
this mansion of*misery,'Major Sandys was the
keeper. Hefe Hevey lay about seven weeks,
he Was at last discovered among the sweepings
of the prison. < Hevey,' said the Major, ' I have
seen you ride a smart bit of a > mare—you can't
use her here-^-you had better give me an order
for her.' Hevey, induced by hopes and by
fear,'gav5 the order. 'Tlie major accepted "the
order,'saying, *ybur.courtesy will not cost you
much—you are to be sent down td-morrow to
Kilkenny to be tried for your life—you will
most certainly be hanged* and'you can scarcely
think that your journey to the other world will
be performed, on horseback. Hevey was ac-*
cordingly transmitted to Kilkenny^ tried by a
court martial, and convicted upon the evidence
of a person under sentence of death, who had
been allured by a proclamation,' offering a "re¬
ward to any man who would come forward and
give any evidence against the traitor Hevey.
Lord Cornwallis read the* transmiss of Hevey's
condemnation—his heart recoiled ""from the de¬
tail of stupidity and barbarity. He dashed his
pen across the otiious record, and ordered that
U LIFE OF LM^ETT.-
Hevey should be forthwith liberated. On -hi*?
return to Oublin, Hevey met' Major Sandys,
and demanded his mare: Ungrateful- villain.,1
says the, Major, 1 is this the gratitude you show
to his Majesty and to me, for our clemency to
you—you shan't-getipossession of the beast.*
Hevey brought an^ action for the mare f the*
major, not choosing to come, into court and
suggest the probable success, of a thousand act.
tons, restored the property.
Three years" had elapsed since the deliver¬
ance of Hevey—the public -atmosphere had
cleared—'the private destiny of Hevey seemed
to have brightened, but the malice of Jiis ene¬
mies had not been appeased. On tjie 8th of
September, 1801, Mr- Hevey was sitting in a
public coffee house—.Major Sirf was there—
Mr. Hevey was informed that Major Sirr had
at that moment said, that he (Hevey) ought to,
have been hanged. ' Mr. Hevey - was fired at
the charge,; #he fixed his eye on. Sir^ and ask¬
ed if he had dared to say So ? Sirr declared
that he had, and • had said truly. • Hevey an-
sw ered,1 that he was: a slanderous scoundrel.
At the instant Sirr ruShed Upon him, and as¬
sisted by three or four £)f his satellites, who
had attended hirc\ in disguise, secured him', and
LIFE OF ,EMMETT.
95
sent him to the castle guard, desiring that a
receipt might "be given for the villain. Ho
was sent thither. The. officer 'of the guard
chanced to be an Englishman,, but lately ar¬
rived in Ireland—he said to the bailiffs',if this1
was in England,. I should think this gentleman
entitled to bail, but I don't know thd laws of
this country—ho\veVfer, I thjnk .you had better*
loosen those 'irons on-his wrists, or they may,
kill him.' » - *
Major Siik; the defendant, soorr arrived, went
into his office, and returned with an order
which hp had written, and by virtue of which
Mr. Hevey -vyas conveyed, to bus-old' friend and
gaoler, Major Sandys. Here he was-flung into
a room of about* thirteen feet by twelve—it-
was called the ^hospital of/the provost—it was
occupied by six beds, in which- were to lie
fourteen or fifteen miserable \Vretches, so'me of
them shikihg under contagious disorders. Here
he-passed the first night .without bed or food.
The next morning. his humane- keeperr the
Major, appeared. - Mr. Hevey demanded "why
he was, so imprisoned, complained; of hunger
and asked for the gaol allowance. Major
Shndys replied with* a torrent of abuse, which
he concluded by saying—your erime is your
96
LIFE OF EMMETT.
indolence to Major Sirr; however, tie disdains
to trample on you—you may appease him by
proper and contrite submission ; but unless you
do, you. shall rot where you are. I tell you
this, that if government will not protect us, by
G—"dy we wilFnot them. You will probably
(for I know yolir -insolent and ungrateful hardi¬
ness) attempt to get out by an habeas corpus,
but in that you will find yourself mistaken as
much as a rascal deserves.' «Hevey Was inso¬
lent enough to issue an habeas corpus, and a
return was- made on.it, 1 that Hevey was in
custody under a warrant from General Graig,
on a charge of high treason.' That the return
was a gross falsehood, fabricated- by Sirr, I am
instructed to assert. The judge, before whom
this return, was brought, felt that he had no
authority to liberate the unhappy prisoner -
and thus, by a most inhuman and malicious lie,
my client was again remanded to the horrid
mansion of pestilence and famine. Upon this,
Mr. HeVey, 'finding that nothing else remained^
signed a-submission* dictated by Sandys, was
enlarged from confinement, and brought the
present action.
The jury awarded Mr. Hevey 1501. -dama¬
ges.
PART Y>
The conduct of ifr. Emmett after his- £tKTst,—His letter to
John Phil»)ot Cnmui—His associates—Trial and Convic¬
tion—His celebrated sneech in defence of his character.
A m 0 *
. /»^tFTEB. his arrest,* .the iiftfortunatevEmmett
.betrayed no. tokens ©f iear o"r perturbation, but
evinced the- same caTm and dignified .aspect
tvhich fevep distinguished this extraordinary
young man.
A few days after, he wrote the following let¬
ter to Mr. -Curran x detailing the origin and pro-
.gtess of his attachment for the daughter of that
gentleman f
I did not expect y©.u to belny counsel. I
nominated van, because not to- have done 'so
* *. » »
.might have appeared remarkable. Had Mr.-7-r—
been in town, I did trot even wish to have seen
you; Jm^as he was ndt, I wrote to you to como
to me at once. J know that I have done you a
very severe injury, much greater thaii I can
atone for with my life ; that atonement I did
offer to make before the privy council, by plead¬
ing guilty, if these documents were suppressed.
I offered, if I were permitted to consult solne
persons, and if they would consent to as. ao-
5
LIFE OF EMMETT.
•" *
commodation for saying the lives of others,
that I would only require for my part of it, the
suppression of those documents, and that I
would abide t^ie event of my own trial. This
also was rejected., and nothing hut individual,
information, "(with the exception of names',)
would he taken. My intent ion* was., not to
leave jthe suppression of "those documents to
possibility, but to render it unnecessary for any
one to plead for me, by pleading guilty to the
charge myself.
" The circumstances that I am now going to
mention, I do not^ state in my own justification.
When I first addressed your daughter,* I -ex¬
pected that in another week my own fate would
be d'ecided. f knew that in^ cdse of -success,
many others might look on me .differently «from
what they did at that moment; but I .speak
with sincerity, when I say, that I never was
anxious for situation or distinction myself, and
I do not wish to be united to one-who was. I
spoke to your daughter, neither expecting, nor,
in faet, under such circumstances, wishing, that
there'should be a return of attachment; but
wishing to judge of her dispositions, to know
how far they might not be unfavorable or
disengaged, and to know what foundation I
LIFE OF.EMMETH eg
might afterwards have to count on. I received
no encouragement whatever. She told m,e she
had no attachment for any"person, n*or did she
seem likely to have any that'could" make her
wish to quit ypu." i staid away* till the time
had elapsed when I found that the event to
which f allude, was to ^be. postponed indefinite¬
ly. -I returned by"a kind of infatuation, think¬
ing that to myself -only was I giving pleasure
or pain. I perceived no-progress of attachment
"on her part, nor any thing krher conduct to dis¬
tinguish me from a common acquaintance. Af¬
terwards I had reason to^supprose that discov¬
eries were made, and that'I should^ be obliged
to quit tHe-kingdom immediately: and 1 came
to- make, a renunciation- of any approach to
friendship that might have been formed. On
that vnry day she spoke to me to "discontinue
my visits ; I- told her it was my intention, and
I mentioned the reason*. - I "then, for the first
time, found i was unfortunate, by the manner
in whioh she was affected, that there was a re¬
turn of affection; and that it was too lat-e to rp-
treat. My Own apprehension^, also, I after¬
wards found, were without cause, and I remain¬
ed. * There has been much culpability on my
part in all this, but there has also been a great
%IjTi'E OF E3SMETT.
derfi" of that misfortune wIuch.Seems uniform-
ly to accdmpiHiy mo* Tlyrt I have written to
your daughter sincerap unfortunate'^ e-v.cn t has
taken place* was 9.11 additional broach *of prg-
priety, forwjtich I have suffered well; but. I"
will candidly confess., that I list only do^not ^1
it to have been of the fame 'extent, but .that I
consider it to^ havO -been ^unavoidable-, after
what had passed: for-though I will not attempt
t» justify, In the smallest, decree, fny" former
conduct,-yet when/ar^ attachment was - onto
formed bet wee n n d a sincpfer^oije nevdV
did exisW-I feel that, peculiarly circumstanced
as I then was., to-have left her uncertain of my
.situation vmul'd neither hav;e wearied her af¬
fection's, nor lessened her 'anxiety,; and. lpek-
ing upon her as one whom, if I had .lived, I
hoped to have had my-pw tner for life^ »f hid
hold the ^renioviiTg" hef anxiety, a bo ye every
other consideration, I%woh!d rather have iiad
<0 » ^ 4
the affections of. your daughter ijn the back
settlements of America; than the first situation
^his country could affofd .without, them. I
know nptnyhelber this WQuJd h.e any extenua¬
tion. o£ my offencef-I kpow .not whethex it
will be any extenuation of ft to knovr, that if
I had yhat situation in my power .at this mo-
LIFE'OF EMMETT-. 37
ment. I would relinquish it to devote my life tfo
her happiness—J-k*uow not- whether'success
Would have blotted oftt the.reeolleotion'of what
I have dene—bat I hnfotf "that a man^ with the
coldness of death in hin\, »epd no't be made to
ffeel any other coldness-, had* that lie "may be
spased any addiCifm to the misery he'feels, not
for himself, -but fort hose Tq wlmnrhe has left
« * t
nothing but sorrdw." * . -'
*frhe original, from which the above letter
has Keen "copied, was not signed or dated.
Uyon"tlie» arrest of Mr; EmriTett; some pa¬
pers were found about his person, wfdeh'show¬
ed "that s!ibsecyie>ft to the iusur?ectiop^ he had
corresponded with" onejof Mr. Cur rah's family :
a warrant accordantly followed-, as 'a matter of
• * % * m ^ * - *
course,'to examine Mr. Curran's house, .-where
sbme 'of Mr. EmmetCs letters- were found,*
which, together with file documeptsdahen up-,
cfr'hihperspn, placed bdyoncUdduftt, his con¬
nection,'with the latp couSpirq^y, and were af¬
terwards used in evidence upon Jus trial.
At the instance .of - the Aitxypey General,
Mr* O'GaADy. 'Mr> CVnaax accompanied him
P * *
to the privy council. - Upon his first Entrance,
there \fd!a some indicatioii of .the hostile spfrit
* . * »
which he had originally apprehended. A no-
9$ LIFE OF EMMETT.
ble lord, who at that time held the highest ju¬
dicial situation in Ireland, undertook to exam¬
ine him upon the transactionAvhich occasioned
his presence. To do- this wp.s undoubtedly
his duty. He fixed.his eye Upon. Mr. Curran,
and vtas proceeding to-cross-examine his coun¬
tenance, when (as it is well remembered -fay
spectators of the scene )"the-swell of indigna-.
tion, and the'gleam of stern dignity add oor-
tempt which he encountered there, gave ins
own nerves the shock which he had meditated
for another's, and compelled him to* shrink
back in his chair, silent and disconcerted %at
the failure of his rash experiment. With this
single exception,.Mr* Cur-ran was treated with
the utmost delicacy.
A special commission wAs -openfed t<3 try
Emrae-tt and nineteen other prisoners in Dub¬
lin, on the 31st of August, 1803. Of these
nineteen, one was acquitted, and. another re¬
prieved ; the next werq convicted and executed
on the evidence of Various witnesses. We give
a brief sketch of some of Emmett's associates,
} 7
taken from, a little book before us :
Amongst fhe unfortunate - men.- convicted
were some of the principal associates of Em-
mett in the insurrection; Mr.. Russel was the
LIFE OF EMMETT.
9.
son of an officer of reputation in his Majesty's
service, and who, having retired, enjoyed-an
honorable retreat in the situation of master, of
the royal hospital for veterans at Kilmainham,
near Dublin. He was placed early in the ar-~
my, and served jat Bunker's Hill, and the sub¬
sequent campaigns in North America. After
the peace, he either retired on half pay, or his
corps Vas reduced. He was. affectionate and
tCtid&ohearted, and possessed every feeling and
sentiment of the gentleman. After the arrest
of-Smm^ft, Russel introduced himself clandes¬
tinely into Dublin, with a* vie who rescue* his
friend, if possible, under-favor of some commo¬
tion-. About twQ days after his arrival, it be¬
came kno\tfii that some person was mysterious¬
ly secreted'in the. immediate vicinity of the
castle. Information to this effect having been
conveyed to Major Sirr, that offioer proceeded
tcvthe examination of a house in Parliament
street, v/hbre he was found, and to whom Mr.
Russet, though well armed, surrendered with-
'out resistance. It was supposed that he was, in
this act,* influenced by a religious scruple-
He was immediately transmitted to Down Pat"
rick, in the North of Ireland, .where he was
shortly after brought .to trial, and upon
100 LIFE 6? EMilETT.
clearest evidence of his- treason,- convicted.
After his trial, he manifested all that wildness
of religions enthusiasm,,which had fpr some
timk formed 1 lie prominent feature of his char7
acter. On conviction, fife addressed the .Court
at great length, and with remarkable firmness.
He declared his adherence to the political
opinions for which he was about to sitffer, .and
touched in atefider.point, the gentlemen of the '
county of Down, by whom he was surrounded"'
These gentlemen, although latterly become
more anxious to secure their.property* tharf* to
preserve tire circle of their liberties, had been,
foremost m the outcry for parhamenfary re-,
form and political independence. . Russel re¬
minded them of Ibis circumstance, arid declared
that he was. doomed fo suffer, for endeavoring
to put into execution ,the lessons imbibed
amongst then*.
* A man of different stamp was Dwycr. This
man, at tlie'head of a gang of tloserfers and
banditti, had remained in arms ftoiii-tnc period
of the rebellion of 1708, obstinately rejecting
repeatedly, proffered -mercy, *-and who* dexter¬
ously eluding all pursuit, had sustained' him-,
sclfuinder the protect hn of the almost inacces¬
sible fastnesses .qf the Wieklow Mountains-
LIEE &2? EMMETS. 101
His party did not ostensibly exceed t\venty <
but'he was supposed to possess unbounded in¬
fluence over tjie peasants ,of the district, so that
a large body, on any notablo undertaking, \vas
within his means of command. ' Dwyer and
his band of outlaws afterwards* submitted, on
the stipulation that their lives should be spared.
The trial."of.Mr. Emmett took place at the
Sessions-HouserGreene street, on-Monday, the
19£h day of September, i.803, before Lord
Nojbury,* Mr. Baron George', and Mrv Baron
Daly^Mr. G'Gfady acting as Attorney-General.
He was charged in the indictment with "com-
passing the deposition arld'death of the King,-
and conspiring to levy war tagainst th.e_ King.
within the peMm." '
• **
Mr. Emmett having pleaded not guilty, was
giVen. in charge, and the indictment was then
opened^ by an address from-the Attorney-Gem
erctl, in .substance ns /ol-lo\ys
"t ♦ • *
* The Irish ever a,ftvr hg,d i spite against this dignitary,,
far the cruelty he displayed, throughout the trial of Mr. Em¬
mett. It is-aftid that iwtwas killed by* an.Irish lad 011 his
own domain^'The bo^ accosted him one day, near his resi¬
dence. hamlecl hwn a letter, and while he was; reading it,
shbt him through the heart. Thus peri-lied amanwhoee
vindictive and tyrannical spirit overwhelmed every better
feeling of his nature.
102 LiFE OF EWETT. '
*" Ar
My £,ord, and Gei\tlcmai of the Tury :
bit fe my duty to slateW concisely as I can,
tbe nature of the charge .which has jbeen pre-"
ferred against the prisoner at* firebar, and also
tltS nature of the jevidn'UQ.e which will be pro¬
duced to substantiate thd charge. -It ,will re-4
quire en your part, tire most.'deliberate cons[d-
erdtiCn ; ^because -ft *is not • onjy mq highest
crime of which at all biaies subject ean be
guilty,«but ft receives, if possible* additional
aggravation when we consider the statp of f>u-
rope, and the'lamentable*,consequences tvmch*
revolution Jias aljfeady brought npfrn it.
Pe.rhaps sA former periods some allowance
might be made fo£Jhe 'heated imagmiatioii^of
enthusiastsr; perhaps * an e^ka-vagant ?ove - of
liberty, might for ja mmncutsufersede a*iation^l
mqderstanding, and might be induced, for. Want
of sufficient expeuieue'e'-or capacity, to leek to!
that liberty in'reyolutiofp . put jt is nof The
road to liberty. It throws the mas%of the -peo¬
ple hito agitation, only.fo brfag the", worst and,
the most profligafe'tO the syr-iac®. 7It .Originates
in ana#chy, proceeds'in bloodshed,fancf eupls in
cruel and imrelenfihg despotism.
Therefore,. Gentlemen, The crime of which,
the prisoner stands charged, demands the most
LJFE OF EMMETT. 108
' serious and deep investigation, becahse "it is in
ifs.natore fcrime o£ _t4ie blackest die, jtnd
which, under'all existing ' "circumslances,* dfles
not haunt of a njomeiftary explanation.
* Gentleman, the prisoner stands indie fed un¬
der- a" vgry ancient statute—the 2-jth of hTd-
ward the Ifl.-^nd the indictment is grounded
.011 three clauses/ The "first relates tq compass¬
ing and imagimngjdie -death.of the., king—the
second *a adheidng -to his enemies—and the
•thircl in Qdinpassing'to.Ievy pvar against him.
•The two latter, namely, that of adh'ering to
the king's enemies,.and that of compassing to
levy, war, ace so iiitelligi'ble'ili themselves that
they do not peonke.any obversation upon. them.
•But the fij^t,4a*clmit& of. some, technical'consid¬
eration's, and inay/require on my part' a- short
explanation.
■ In the language of the law, compassing 'the
"death of .the king,'does, not mean or .imply ne¬
cessarily,, any.immediate attack upon hi^ per-
■son.. -Bat any-conspiracy .wJilch lias for its ob¬
ject an*alteration"jof tiie^awp, constitution, and
government of the country by,, force} "uniformly
leads to anarchy and-general destruction.,. and
finally tends to endangep the life of- tjie king.
And, therefore, where that desigli is subslan-
104 LIFE OF.EMMETT.
tiated, and manifested by overt acts, whenever
the party entertaining the design, uses* any
me^ftis to carry his traitorous intentions into
execution, th§ crime of ccg»passing and imagin¬
ing the death of the'king is complete.
Accordingly, gentlemen, this indictment par¬
ticularly. states overt acts, by which the prison¬
er disclosed the traitorous imagination of his
heart—and, if it shall b"e necessary, those par¬
ticular oveit acts, and the applicability of" the
evidence which will be .produced .to support
them, will be, stated at large to you* by the
court, and therefore, if will not bo necessary
for me now" to trespass upon the publie time,
by a minute examination of them.
Gentlemen, having heard the charg'e „ against"
the prisoner, yo.u will naturally .feel that your
duty will require an investigation into two dis¬
tinct points : first, whether there has, or has"
not existed a tfaitOrous conspiracy dnd rebel¬
lion for the purpose of -altering" the "law, the
constitution", and the government ©f the conn-'
try by force?—^And, secondly, whether the
prisoner has in any, and in what degree, par¬
ticipated in-that conspiracy and rebellion ?
Gentlemen, I do-not wish to'undertake to
«peak in the. prophetic, buf when 1. consider
LIFE OF EMMETT.
105
tber- vigilance and firmness of his Majesty's
government, the spirit and discipline of his
Majesty's troops, andv that "armed valor and
loyalty which from ofte end of the "country to
the other, has raised itself, for the purpose of
crashing domestic* treason? and, if necessary,
of meeting and Repelling a foreign foe, I do not
think it unreasonable toandulge a sanguinary
hopegthata cohtimiance of the same condu-ct
upon the paft of government, and of the same
exertit>ns-upon the part of the* people, -will long
p'rescrve the nation- free, happy -and inde¬
pendent
^ Gcntletnjah, upon fgrmer occasions-, pessons
were brought' to th'e bar of this court, implica¬
te dan the rebellion,"in various, though inferior
decrees. 'But if f am rightly instructed; we
have now brought to the bar ©f justice, not a
person who has been seduced by others,, hut a
•gentleman to whom the rebellion mayJae^traced
as t^je origin, the life, paid-soul of it. If X mis¬
take not, it will appear that' sohie time before
Christmas last, the prisoner,, w$o had Visited
foreign, countries, and who for several • months
before I*ad made a continental four, embracing
Prance, returned to this country, full - of those
mischievous designs which have been so fully
I OS LIFE OF ElfrMFTT.
exposed. ♦lle-Ccime from tjhat country, in which
he might well have learned the necessary cff^ct^
of revolution pand, therefore,, .if he be, r guilty
of jtreasoiirhe' embalmed ilj k with his eyes open,
and with a previouy hnovdedge 'of all its inevj-^
table 'consequences*. . Cut, notwithstanding, I.
am. instructed that he pecsevere&^in fopienting
a rebellion,.which I will fcetboW tcj sgjj i*s Un¬
exampled in any Country, ancienkQr modern.^
A rebellion jvhi^hedoes pot' complain 'of* any
existing grievances, which does^iot. flow from
any immediate'jappression. chid which is not pre-
tended to have been* provoked by ouxpaiild and
grqcions-king, or b}* the qilministfaiion employ¬
ed by limi.^to execute bis authority. No, gen¬
tlemen, itjis a rebel! ipn wjiich avo.ws itself to
come, not to rempvelpty-bvil which the people
feel, hut to_ recall^ yhe m/moxy of grievances*
which, if they ever existed, .must haye long
sinefc passed ja way. -
Yovi will recollect, gentlemen, that in the
large .proclamation ill ere yrttsja studied endear
vox to persuade 4 large portion*of the people
that they hadpio religious feuds -to. apprcjiepd-
frdtn the establishment of a petv government
But.the manifesto upon which I am.now about
animadverting feus'taken a somewhat different
LIFE OF E&MEJT. l(fr
• * .•
course, cfiid'Jsas revived religio\is„distinct iphs
at the very moment in which it .jejpresses a
desire td extinguish. them. - *
il Ofkhgcrrfehj add jiot -to the- catalogue of.
your lollies and crimes ? already have you "been
-Tluped fro theiiiin of the country4, in the legist d-
«**-. - « * '* .* - »
live mupn with its tyrant; attempt pot an op¬
position ; fetuwi from the. baths of delusion ;
return, to the arms of 'your * countrymeh^ who
will receive and hail yom> repentance. .Coun¬
trymen o*f all he§crij:tioUs, fet us act with union
ayd Qyonecxtf; alj. seels, Catholic,^ Protestant,
Presbyterian, are equal and indiscriminately
embraced }n the bqnevofeiucS of. our. object."
\wilt not.apply to.thispassage.aH .the observa¬
tions that press upon my mind, .because I am
•# # „ » * • » *
•sincerely .desirous that-one -feeling and one
spirit should animate ns all.- I can not but da-
1 v» • .
ment that there should be so many sectaries in
religicpu butjfust m-God.ldjere .\till be foil yd
aihonast us' hyt one political faith. Hut this
manifesto is equally unfortunate in every in-,
staoce'in whi£h it prescribes moderation, At¬
tend to the &dy ice by wjycb i4* pistigates the
citizeng%of Rutrlin: " In a*city each, street he-
corp'es ti defile * and each house a battery ;
impede the march of your oppressors, charge
103 LIFE OF EMMETfj
them.with" the arms«of the brave, the pike, and
from the windows and roofs hurl st'ones, bricks,
buttles, and all other convenient implements,
on the heads-of the satellites of your tyrant,
the mercenary" the sanguinary soldiery of Engj
land."
Having thus roused them-, it throws in a few
words,of composure, "repress,' preveht, "and
discourage excesses, pillage, and intoxication j1'
and to ensure that calmness of mind vfhicll is-
so necessary to qualify them for the adoption
of this salutary advice, ft desires that they will
" remember against wht>m they "fight, their
oppressors for 600 years; remember*theif mas¬
sacres, their tortures 5 remember youf' murder¬
ed friends, your burned, houses, your violated
females." Thtis affecting to recommend mod-*
eration, -every expedient is resorted to^ which
couid.tend *to inflame sanguinary men to the
commission of sangdyiary tleeds^
Gentlemen., yhu Thust by. this time be Some¬
what anxious to know the progress of the gene¬
ral, who escaped the memorable action which
was to be fought, and the first place in which
I am enable'd to introduce him to"ybu, is at' the
hohse of Cue Doyle, who resides ne&r <he
Wicklow mountains. There the general add
LIFE OF EMMETT. 1Q9
his companions took refuge/at the commence-1
mciit of the following week : they arrived-there
at a late •hom*; the general was stilt'dressed"* in
his full uniform, With suitable lace and epaulets-, *
and a military cocked drat, with a ^conspicuous
feather. Two other ]5ersoi1$ wdre also decora¬
ted in* green and gold. From thence they pro¬
ceeded to the* house of "Mrs. Bagnal'J, and re¬
turned to the city .of Dublin. What .Became of
the other persons is foreign to the present in¬
quiry,'but we- trace tfrb prisoner from those'
mountains to the sanle house 'in Harold's Crossl¬
in which he formerly .resided, and assuming"
the old Tiame of He Vit; he arrived .there the
Saturday after tire rebellion.* . « -
Having remained tumonth-m this conceal¬
ment, information was had,-and Major Sirr, to
whose activiiy and intrepidity the loyal citi¬
zens of Dublin are under mush 'obligation, did
confer an .additional and 'greater one, by the
zealous fcUscharg^ of his'duty, on this occasion-,
lie c<f$re by surprise*oil (he.house, having- §enfr*
a countryman to give a single rap, and the door
being opened, the Mfcjer-r.usbed in and caught
Mrs, Paimec and .the prisoner-sitting down - to
dinner; the former withdrew and the Major
immediately.asked tire prisoner- his iiaiite, and,
110 LIFS OF EMMETT.
as if he-found a gratification in assuming a
variety: of titles,, he said his name was Cunning¬
ham, that he had, that day arrived in the house,
having been upon a visit with some friends in
the neighborhood ; the Major then left him in
charge of another person, and.went to inquire
of Mrs. Palmer Concerning himj she said he,
was a very pfoper young frian of the, name- of
Hewit, and. that he had been ,in her house
about a month: the Major at this moment
heard a noise, and he found -that the prisoner
was endeavoring to make his -escape, and ' hay¬
ing beenatrtick with a pistol by the person
who had the cu stody of him, he was by that
means detained; immediately further assistance
was called in from a neighboring guard-house,
and an additional sentry was put upon him.
The Major then again, proceeded further to in¬
terrogate Mrs. Palmer,, when the prisoner made
another effort, got into the garden through the
parlour window, but was at length overtaken
by the Major, who-at the peril ef his own life,
fortunately secured him.. When,the. Major
apologized, for the ropghness with which he
was obliged to treat him, the prisoner replied,
" all, is fair in war."
Gentlemen, you have the life of a fellow sub-
LIFE OF EMJIETT. Ill
jgct in your, hands, and by the benignity of our
laws, he is^pre'sumed to be an innocent man
until your verdict shall find him guilty.
If upon the evidence you shall* be so satisfied
that this man is guilty, you must discharge
your duty to your king, your country, and
tcr your. God.- if,- on tljeother hand, nothing
shall - appear^ sufficient'to affect hjm, we shall
acknowledge'thatwehave grievously offended
him, and will heartily participate in the common
joy that must result from the acquittal -of an
honest man."-
In order that the reader may have a full Qn-
derstanding of this trial, whioh consigned so
* *
great and good a man to the grave, we give
below the evidence, as adduced by the witness¬
es for the Crown—Mr. Emmett introduced
none.
Joseph Rawlins, Esq. being sworn, depose-d
to a knowledge of the prisoner, and collected
having been in his company spn\e time in the
month of December last, whan he understood
from him that he had been to see his brother
at Brussels. On his cross-examination, the
witness said,- that in conversations with -him
\ 4
on the- subject of continental politics, fjie%-pris-
oner avowed that the inhabitants of the
112 "LIKE" OF EMMETT.
Austrian'' Netherlands execrated Bonaparte's
government; and from the whole of the prison¬
er's conversationji the witness bad reason to
believe, that"he highly condemned Bonaparte.'s
conduct and- government.
George Tyrrel, an attorney, proved the ex¬
ecution in the mentft o£ Juree o'f the lease
of a house in- Butterheld-lane, Eathfarnhain,
from Mkjhael Frayne to the prisoner, who'as-
sumed on the occasion, the name'df Ellis.
Mr. Tyrrel was one of the-subsciibing witnesses
to the lease, and a person named* Dowdall was
the' other.
■ Michael Fra'yne, who-leased the abo've-meQ-
tioned house to* dhe prisoner, proved also to
that fact, and that he gave him possession of* it
on the 23d'of April preceding^—that the prison¬
er and Dowdall lived thereon the most seques¬
tered manner, ^nd apparently anxious of 'con¬
cealment.
John Fleming.-a. native of The county 'Jiil-*
dare, sworn-:—deposed, -that on the 23d of
July, and for the year previous thereto, he had
been hostler ie-t White Bull Inn, Thomas Streets-
kept by a pershn named Dillon. The house
was convenient to Marsbal-lane. where the re¬
bel 'depSt was," and to which the witness had
JJFE OF EMMSiTT. Hi
.free and constant "access, having. been, in-the
confidence of tfie conspirators, and employed
to bring, then? ammunition and $thor .things.
Hesstw the persons rife re making pike7l1andl.es,
and heading.them y;ith.the.jrQii part; he also
saw the blund.erbusses, firelocks, and pistols in
the depot, and saw bulIFcart ridges making
there. Here the witness identified Jhe ^rjsoiiei*
at the bair^- whom hp saw in the de'po^; for the
first tiqie^ 011 the Tuesday morning atfter the
explosion" in Patrick-street—(that explosion
took place on jSa-turdayj the 16th of- July.)
-The witness had opened the gate of the Inn
yard, which opened into Marshal-lane, -to let
out GUbgley, \vhen he saw the prisoner, accem-
"pahied by a person of the name of Palmer;
th,e latter got some .sacks from the "witness to
con'vey ammunition to "the stores, and .the. pri¬
soner went into the depot,.where h'e continued
almpst-constantly up til. the evening of the~23d
July, directing the preparations -for* the#insur¬
rection, and having the chief authority, lie
heard' the prisoner'read a little sketch, as th#
** f
witness called it, purporting that every officer,
non-commissioned officer and private, should
have equally every thing they got, and have
the same laws as iq Fiance* Being asked what
114
LIFE .OF EMMETS.
it was .the^ were to share, the prisoner replied,
*" what they got when they took Ireland or
Dublin." He saw green uniform jackets mak¬
ing in the depot by different tailors, dne of
whom was named, Colgan. He "saw one uni¬
form in particular, a greencoat, laced on the
sleeves and skirts, &c. and gold epaulets, like
a general'^ dress. He saw the prisoner take it
out of a desk one day and show it to all pre¬
sent (here the witness' identified the desk,
which was"in court,) he also saw the jfrisoner,
at different times, take 'out papers; and put pa¬
pers back into the desk; there was none other
in the store. Qnigley used, also, sometimes
to goto the desk.* On the evening of the 23d
of July, witness saw the prisoner dressed in the
uniform above described, with white waistcoat
and pantaloons, new boots and cocked hat, and
white feather.. He had: also a sash on him,
and was armed with a- sword. and case of pis¬
tols. . The prisoner called for a big coat, but
he did not get it, to disguise his uniform, as
he' said, until he went to the party that were
to attack the castle: Q,uigley and a person
named Stafford had uniforms like that of Em-
metf, but had only one epaulet. Qaiigley had a
white feather, and Stafford a green one. Staf-
LIFE OF EMMETa
115
ford was a baker in Thoifias-street. About 9
o'clock the prisoner drew his sword, and call¬
ed out to " come on, fhy boyshe sallied out
of the depot, accompanied by Quigley and
Stafford, and about fifty men, as well as he
could judge, armed with pikes, blunderbusses,
pistols, '&c. They entered Dirty-lane, and
from thence into'Thomas-street. The prison¬
er was in the centre of the party. They began
to-fire in Dirty-lane, and also when they got
into Thomas-street, The witness was also
with the party. The prisoner went into the
stores by the name of Ellis. He w.as consider¬
ed by all of them as the general and. head of
the business; the witness heard him called by
the* title of general. In and out of the depot,
it was said that they were preparing *to assist
the French when they should land. Quigley
went into the depot by the name of Graham.
Terrence Colgan, the tailor named in the
foregoing evidence, sworn. Deposed, that on
•the Sunday previous to the insurrection, he
came to town from Lucan, where he lived, and
having met with a friend, they we.nt to Dil¬
lon's, the White Bull Inn, in Thomas-street,
and drank, until the witness, overcome with
liquor, fell asleep, when he was conveyed in
lis LIFE <0F EMMETT.
this state of/insensibility into the depot. -j?i
Marshal-! a tie, and when lie awoke the nest
morning, he was set to*work making .geeen
jackets and white pantaloons."" He* saw the pri¬
soner these, by "Whose directions, everything
was done, andWvho, "he understood; was tlip
chjef* He recollected^ seeing the last witness
frequently hi the depot while he was there. .He
also saw the prisoner often at the desk writing.
The' witness corroborated the general prepara¬
tions Or arms, ammunition, &c.,for the insur¬
rection.
Patrick Farrel sworn." Deposecf, that as he
was passing through Marshal-Jane, between the
hours of nine and.teir ojclockon the evening
of Friday, the 22;3. of July,. he stopped before
the malt stored, or depot, on hearing a,noiscS
therein, which surprised him, as be considered,
Jh a yasteJTrouse. Iramed iately the_ doOr opea-
ed? and a man catoe forth, who caught him,
-and asked him what lie'was doing there I The
witness was, then brought into the depot, and
agaih asked w|iat brought hkn there, or had he
.ever been there before? He Said*ho had not.
They asked him if,fie kney Graham?^ He re¬
plied fie ^did not. One of the persons then
said the witness was a spy, and called, out to
LLPS QF EHMETB 41%
u drop him immediately,'' by whichLhe witness
understood .they meant4to shoot iiim. . They
brought him up stairg, and after some consulta¬
tion, they agreed td waif for some person to
come in, who wQuld decide what should b6
done with him. -Tha.t person having arrived,
he asked the wifpess if he knew Graham ? He
replied that he did not. -A light was brought
in at the same time, and the witness having
looked -about, 4yas,asked if he knew any one
there ? He' -replied he knew Quigley. He
was asked where ? He replied that he knew
him fivemr six years-ago in"1 the College of
Maynooth, as a bricklayer or mason. - The
witness understood that Qnigley was the. per¬
son who( went by the name of Graham. Here
ther-witness identified the prisoner as. the per¬
son who came-in and^jdecided he should not be
killed, but he should be taken care of, and not
let out. The witpess was detained there that
night and tfie whole of the next day, Saturday,
,the 23d, and was made to assist at the differ¬
ent kinds of work.
He assisted in taking boards, off a car; the
.boards, he said, were made into cases, and
pikes put into them. These cases the witnesgp
..described as "being fnade of tha outside slabs- of
• 6
U8 tips OE EMMETT.
a long .beam; taken off about an, inch or more
thick—four 'or five inches at eaeh -end of the
beam was cut off, the slab? were nailed togeth¬
er, and these pieces put iff at the ends, so that
it appeared like a rough plank or beam of tim¬
ber. He sa\y" several such cases, filled with
pikes, sent out. The..witness stated-that on
the evening of the 23H, he saSv three men dress¬
ed. in green uniforms, richly laced ^ one of
whom Was the prisoner, who wore two gold
epaulets, but the other two only one each. The
-prisoner had also a cocked hat', sword, and pis¬
tols. When the ^witness was helping out
one of the beams prepared fbr explosion, he con¬
trived to effect his escape.
On his cross-examination, in which the in¬
terrogatories Were Suggested by the prisoner,
the only thing remarkable ^in the evidence of
the witness was, that he heard a printed paper
r^ad, part of'which was, that nineteen counties
were ready to rise "at the same time, to second
the attempt in Pufilin. The witness also
heard them s'ay, "that they-huff no idea as to
French relief, but would make itr good them¬
selves. in. answer ta a question from the
tionof w*tness saJd that he gave informa-
t re circumstance deposed in his evi-
LIFE OF EMMETT. "119
3ence, next morning, to Mr. OrmsBy in
Thomas-street,'to whom he was Steward.'
Serjeant Thomas Rice proved the Proclama¬
tion of the Provisional Government, found in
the* depot,* .
Colonel Spencer"Thomas Vassal beingsworn,
deposed tha't he tvas field effic'er of the'day on
the' 23d of July; thQt'havift^ .gone 1© the de¬
pot in Marshal-lane, he found, there" several
small .proclamations addressed to the citizens
of Dublin, !ahd which Were quite Vet. He
identified one of them. The witness also iden¬
tified the .desk which the' prisoner used m 'the
depot. Having • "remained about a quarter of
an hour in the depot, he' Committed to Major
Greeville the pare of its contents.
Questioned^ By the'Court.'- The witness
said that'he'visited* ffte depot between* three
and four $'clock Bn* Sunday morning, -it hav¬
ing bepn much advanced in daylight before he
was suffered to go his rounds.
Alderman Frederick Dariey sworri. Proved
hSvirig found in* the depot a paper'-directed to
" Robert Ellis, Butterfield.'1 Also a paper .en¬
titled a "Treatise op the Art of -War." The
latter had been handed, at the time, to' Capt.
Evelyn.
120, MFl OF EMMSTT,
Captain Henry Evelyn svyorn. Deposed
having been at the rebel depot on the morning
of Sunday, the 23d of July, to see the things
"removed to the barracks, and that he found a
S » • *'
paper there, which, l?eing shewn to him, lie
identified. This paper was a manuscript draft
of the greater part of the Proclamation, of1 the
Provisional Government^ altered and interlined
in a great many places;.
Robert Lindsay, a* soldier, and Michael Cle¬
ment 'Fraylie, quartei>master-sergeant of the
38th regiment, proved the conveyance of the
desk: (then in court) to the, barracks; and the
latter identified a letter .which, he found there¬
in. The letter was signed, Thomas ^Addis
Emmeth," and directed to " Mrs, Emraett, Mil-
town, Dublin," and began with, My Rarest
Robert." It bore a foreign ppst-mark,
Edward. Wilson, Esq. recollected the explo¬
sion of gunpowder which took place in Patrick
street, previous. to the 23d of July: it took
place on the lfith. He went there and found
an apparatus for malgpg gunpowders-was cer¬
tain that it was gunpowder exploded. Proved
the existence of a rebellious insurrection, as did
also Lieut, fifi-ady. The latter added, that on
examination of the pikes which he found in
LIFE OF EMMETT. 121
Thomas-street, four were- stained with blood"
on the iron part, and! on one or two of them, the
blood extended half way up the handle. •
John Doyle; a farmer, being sworn, deposed*
to the folio wing effect:—That on "the morning
of the -26th of July "last, about fwo o'clock, a.
party of people came .to his house at Ba]Ty-
mace, in the parish of Tallaght, seven miles
from Dublin.' He-had been after drinking, -and
was heavy asleep; they" came to his bedside,'
and stirred and called hirrf j birfhe did not awake
at once ; when he "did, and looked up, he lay
closer than before : they desired hinj to'4take
some spirits, which he refused; they then
moved him io the middle of the bed ancf.two
of them "lay down, one on "each side of him.
One of them said, " You- have a French Gen¬
eral arid a French' "Colonel beside you, what
you never had before.^ For some hours the
witness lay between asleep arid awake". "When'
he found his companions asleep, he stq|e out of'
the bed, and found in the room some blunder¬
busses, a gun, and some pistols.* ^he number
of hlunderbus§es "he believed were equal to* the
numbei* of persons, who t>n being collected at
breakfast, amounted t-o fourteen.. Here he
laa
LIFE OF EMMETTv
identified the prisoner as one of those who were
in bed with him.
The witness then further stated "that.the pri¬
soner, 09 going away in .the evening, put on a
cent with a great deal of lace and tassels, (a$
he expressed it.) There was another persoif
in a similar dress; they wore^ on.their depar¬
ture^ great coats.Wer these. The party J'Jit
hi? house -between .eight andnine o'clock in
the evening, and proceeded up the liilt._ The
next morning, t|ie .witness founds .under the
table oil whiclv they breakfasted, one of the
small printed proclamations, which he gave to
John Robinson, ihe barony constable.
Rose Bagnal, residing at Ballynascorney,
about a mile further -up the hilffrottf Doyle's,
proved that a party of mem fifteen in number,'
and whom she;describe&,similar to that of" the
' -v . f f
preceding'^witnessj.came to her house on the
night of the^Tuesday immediately after the in¬
surrection. Three of them wore green clothes^
ornamented with something yellow—she. was
so frightened she could not distinguish ex¬
actly. One-k)f tl\em was called a general. She
was not enabled to identify any of them. They
left herjiouse about 9 o'clock on the following
night.
LIFE OF EMMETT. 12«
John Robinson, constable of- the barony of.
Upper Cross, corroborated the testimony of the
witness Doyle, relative tq the .small proclama¬
tion, which he identified-
Joseph Palmer -sworn. .Deposed that he
was clerk to Mr, .Colville, and lodged at, his
mother's hoiise} Harol<Ps-eross5 He recollect¬
ed the Apprehension of the prisoner, at his,mo¬
ther's house, hy Major dSirr, and> that die did
lodge there the preceding spring, at which time,'
and when he was arrested,,he went by the nam®
of Hewit. The prisoner name to Jo'dge them
the second time about three.weeks before this
last time* and _was habjted in a brown- eoat,
white waiseoat, "white, pantaloons, llessian'
boots, and a.black frock. Those who visited
the prisoner, enquired for lijm, by the name of
Hewit, At the time he Svas arrested there was.
a. lable on the door of the house, expressive of
its* inhabitants': It was- written .by the witness,
but the name ©f the prisoner was. omitted^ at
hia request, because he said he/was afraid gov¬
ernment would* fake him up.
The prisoner,'in different conversations with-
the wituessf.explained why he-feared to be ta¬
ken up. lie acknowledged that he had been in
m- t?FB.q3S
Thofhassgtreet, on the'Right of the &3d of
July, and described the dress "he wbreo'n'th&t
occasion, part of' which were- the waistcoat*
parrtaloorrs, and boots already mentioned, and
particularly his coat, which he said was a v&ty
handsome.uniform. The prisoner had also a
co'nvefsa'tion with the witness about a maga¬
zine, and expressed much fegret at the loss- of
the powder in the depot. The proclamations
were likewise- mentioned -by the prisoner, and
he planned a mode of escape, in'the event of
any"attempt to arrest - him, by going through
the parlor window into the-back house, and
from thence into the fields. Hec£ the witness
* * -
was shown a paper, found *lipon a chair in the
room in > which the-prisoner lodged, and asked'
if-he knew whose hand-writing it was ? He
replied that he did not* know^but was certain
that it had not been written by any ef his fam¬
ily, and. that there was no lodger in the house
besides the prisoner.
The examination of this Witness- being
closed,extracts from the proclamation, (vide the
Attorney General's statement) addressed to the
Citizens of Dublin, were read.
Major Henry- Charles Sirr, examined. De-
LIFE OF EMM EFT, 12,:
posed to the arrest of .the prisoner as fol¬
lows :
" I went on the 25th of August, to the house
of one Palmer. I had heard there was a
stranger in the back parlor. I. rode, accompa¬
nied by a 'man,on footi I desired the man to
knock at tlie door—he* did, and it was opened
by a gitl." I alighted, ahd ran in directly to
the back parl'or—I saw the'prisoner sitting at
dinper; the woman of the hqpse'was there,
dnd the girl, who opened the door was the
.daughter of the woman of the house. I de¬
sired them to'wifhdrgw.. -I asked the prisoner
hisname; he told me his name was Cunning¬
ham. I-gave, him in Charge to the man who
accompanied me, apd went into.the next room
to ask the woman and her daughter about him ;
they told me his name was Hewit; I went
back and as ked hirp, how fqng he had been
there ? He said he came that morning. He
liad attempted to escape before • I returned, for
hp was, bloody and the man said he knocked
him down with a pistol. I then went to Mrs.
Palmer*,-who said he had lodged there for a
month,; I then judged he was some person, of
importance. When I first went in, there was
lefl LIFE OF EMMETT.
a paper on the chair.* which X put- into my
pocket; I then went to the canal bridge for a
guard, having desired*them to be in readiness
as I passed; I planted a sentry over him, and
desired the non-commissioned officer to sur¬
round the house with sentries, while I search¬
ed it; 1 then examined Mrs. Palmer^ and took
down hey account of the prisoner, during which
* That paper was as follows: *
'"It may appear strange, that a person avowing himself to
be_an-enemy of the present Government, and engaged, in a
conspiracy for its overthrow,, should presume to suggest an
opinion to that Government on any part of its conduct, or
could hope that advicecoming from.such authority, might
be received with attention. The writer of this, however,
does 'not mean to offer an opinion on an/- point, on which
he must of necessity, feel differently from any of those
whom he addresses, and on which, therefore, his conduct
might be doubted. His intention is to confine himself en¬
tirely to those points on which, however widely he may
differ from them-in others, he has" no hesitation in declaring,
that, as a man, he feels the same interest with the merciful
part, and as gn Irishman, with at leasf"the English part of
the present administration ; and at "the sarin? time to com¬
municate -to them in the most precise terms, that line of
conduct which he may hereafter be compelled to adopt,
and which hpwe.ver painful it roust, under, any ciroum-
stances be,' would become doubly so if he was not conscious
of having tri&l to avoid it by the most distinct notification.
On the two first of these points, it is not the intention of
the undersigned for the reason he has already mentioned
to do more than state, what government itself must ac'know-
edge—that of the present conspiracy it ^kubws (compara¬
tively speaking) nothing. That instead >of creating terror
in its enemies, or confidence in its friends, it will only serve
by the scantiness of its information, to furnish additional
grounds of invective to those who are but too ready to
censure it for a want of intelligence, which no sagacity
LIFE OF SlMMETT.
m
time-1 heard & neise as if an escape was at¬
tempted : I instantly ran to the back part of the
house, as the most likely part for him to g£t
otit at* I saw him going .off, and ordered a
sentinel not to fire, and then pursued myself;
regardless of fny order, the sentinel snapped,
» " ■ ' - - ■
could have.enabled thefia to.obtain. That if it "was not able
to terrify by a display of its discoveries, it cannot hope
to crush by the weight of its punishments. Is it- only
now we are to learn, that entering into conspiracy -exposes
us to be hanged ? Are the scattered instances which will
now be brought forward necessary to exemplify the stat¬
ute ? If the numerous and striking examples which have
already preceded, were instifficient—if government can
neither by novelty- of punishment, nor the .multitude of its
victims, impress us with terror, can it hope to injure the
-body of a conspiracy so impenetrably woven as'the present,
by cutting off a few threads from the-end of it.
" That with respect to the second point, no system how-
fiver it may change the nature, can affect the -period of the
contest that is to take place; as to which the exertions of
United Irishmen will be guided only by thfcir own opinion
of the eligibility of the moment for effecting the enjancipa-
tion of their country.
" Th at administration
The following paper was found in, the depot, in Emmett's
hand-writing:
" I.have little time to Ipok at the thousand difficulties
which still-lie betweeii'me and the completion of my wishes,
that those difficulties will likewise disappear I-have ardent,
and I trust, rational hopes ; but if it is not to be the' case, I
thank God for having gifted me wijh a sanguine disposi¬
tion. To that disposition I run from reflection, and _ if my
hopes are without foundation—if a precipice is opening un¬
der my feet, from which duty willnot suffer me to run back,
I am grateful for that sanguine disposition, which leads m©
to the brink and throws me down, while my eyes are still
raised to vision* of happiness, that my fancy formed in $ha
air,"
W UF2 OF E3C&ETT,
but his inusket did not go oft I overtook the
prisoner and he said, u I surrender." I searched
him, and found some papers uppr\ him-
" ",On the witness expressing cojncern af the
necessity of the prisoner's being treated so
roughly,-he (the prisoner) observed, tha,t " Aj|
was fair in war." The prisoner, when brought
to the castle, acknowledged that his name was
Ernmett."
Hercthe case closed on the p^rrt of the Crown,
and Mr. Emmett having,'as before stated, de¬
clined to produce any witnesses, or .defence by
counsel, an argument arose between Mr. Me*
Nall.¥ and Mr. Piajnkett, as to the latter's right
to reply to evidence, when no defence had beeh
made.- Lord Nqrbury said," that the counsel
for the prisoner could not by -their silence pre¬
clude the crown from that right, and therefore
decided in favor of Mr. Plunkett.
Mr. Pluhkett then addressed thte Court to a
» v
considerable length, and in the Severest tone
of legal and political asperity, detailed the con¬
sequences that would affect all po'cial order,
were such opinions as Emmett entertained al¬
lowed, to hav'e^any countenance from the mild¬
ness of the laws, or the mistaken lenity, which
is often exercised by the authority vested in
the s&cred person erf his majesty.
LIFE.-OF EMMETT. 129
How different this language from that used
^by this same Mr. Plunkett in the Union debate
years before. He then usgd such, language as
the following, which,Mr. Emmett often read
with a kindling eye, throbbing heart and burn?
ing.cheek, and-to which he evidently alluded
jn his memorable defences*
" Sir^'i said Mr. PJxmkett orr.the Union de¬
bate, " I thank, tire administration for this
measure. They -are, without intending it,
putting §111 en,d to our dissensions. ' Through
.the- black cloud which they have collected
oyer: us, I see the fight breaking .in upon this
unfortunate country. They have composed
•©ur dissensions,* riot by fomenting the embers
©f'a lingering and subdued rebellion—not by
hallooing Protestant against Catholic,f and
Catholic against Protestant—not'by "commit¬
ting the North against" the South—not by in¬
consistent appeals to local or party prejudices—
•no 1—but" by the avowal of this atrocious con¬
spiracy against the liberties of Ireland, they
have subdued^every petty and substantive dis¬
tinction ; they united every rg.uk and descrip¬
tion of men by the pressure of this grand and
momentous subject^; and I tell them that they
will see every honorable and independent man
130
LIFIv OF EMMETT.
in Ireland rally around the Constitution, and
merge every other consideration in opposition
to this ungenerous and odious measure. For
my part I will resist it to the last gasp of my
existence, and with the last drop op my blood;
and when I feel the hour of <0y dissolution ap¬
proaching, I will, like the father of Hannibal,
tajce my children- to the altar, and swear them
to eternal hostility against the invaders of
their country's freedom. Sir, I shall not de¬
tain you by pursuing -this question through the
topics which it so abundantly offers. I- should
be proud to-think rpy name should be hand¬
ed down to posterity irfthe Same roll of those
disinterested patriots who have successfully
resisted tJieenemieS' of their country—succesSH
fully, I trust,it will be. In-all eveuts, I have
my exceeding great reward-. - I shall bear in
my heart the consciousness of having done my
duty j and in the hour of death I shall not be
haunted by the reflection of having basely sold-
or meanly abandoned the liberties of my coun¬
try—my native land. Can any man .who gave
his vote on the other side lay his hand upon his
heart and make the same declaration ? I hope
so: it will be-well for his own peace. The
indignation and abhorence of his Countrymen
LIFE OF EMMETT.
131
will not accompany him through, and the
curses of his children will not follow him to
his grave. I, in the most express terms, deny
the competency of Parliament to do this act.
I 'warn you, do not "lay your hands on the
Constitution. . I tell you that if, circumstanced,
as you. are', you' pass this act, it will be a
nullity, and that no man.in Ireland will be
bound to obey it."
Hpw poorly did Mr, Plunkettcajry out these
brave declarations. We shall see. Here at the
frial of Robert Emmett, we find, him making
anunnecessary speech agaihst a noble hearted
Countryman, who had followed, in the path he
had pointed out. Yes, this great man, who
was to.imitate Amilcar of old, is inafdw years
bought over by British gold—and. is found re¬
posing calmly beneath the foliage of old. Con-
naught—ex-chancellor, ex-chief justice,".peer of
England,, We need say nothing Qf his only
two son's that: ever touched " the altar," one of
J 1 *
them a bishop; and least of all to the remaind¬
er of the family, abjuring in the sunshine of
the Saxon Sway^ all oaths save those of office
and allegiance to the Crown of Great Britain.
But to rbturn tQ the trial. Lord Norbury
charged the jury, minutely recapitulating the
LIFE OF'EMMETTL
whole evidence, and explained the law. He
evidently showed st disposition to' give Mr.
Emmett no quarter. Well and truly does Mt;.
E. show him up in his speech, which we shall
give in its'place.
The jury, without 'leaving their box, pro¬
nounced the prisoner—"Guilty.'*
" The last sad and interesting scene in Court
has been variously reported, but always receiv¬
ed with interest. We subjo'in the(following
report of it, from Dr. Madden's "United Irish¬
men
"" The'Clerk of th,e Cro^n'then, in the usual
form, addressed the prisoner .hi these words:
1 What have you to say why judgment of death
and execution Should net "be. awarded against
you. according to law V "
Mr. Emmett, standing forward to the dqck,
in front of the bench} said :—
My Lords :—1 am -asked, what have I to,
say why sentence of death should hot be pro¬
nounced on me, according to law ? I have
nothing to say that can alter your predetermi¬
nation, nor that it will become me to Say, with,
any view to the mitigation of that sentence
which you are to pronounce, and I must abide
by. But I have that to say which interests me
OF JfflMETT, U3
more than life, and which you have labored (as
Was necessarily your office in 4he present cir¬
cumstances of this oppressed country) to de¬
stroy—I have much to say,, why Iny reputation
should bo rescued from the load of false, accu¬
sation and calumny which* has-been heaped
upon it-. I do not imaging-that, .seated where
you are, your minds can, be so free from impu,-*
rit^, as to receive the* least impression^from
what I am «goirfg to* uiter. I have no hopes
that I can anchor-my character in the breasts
©f a Court constituted and trammelled aS. this is.
I" only wish, ahd. it is the utmost-1 'expect, that
your Lordships may suffer it to float flown yo.ur
memories untainted by the foul breath of pre¬
judice, until it finds some more hospitable har«
bor to shelteivit frqm thp storm by which it
is at present buffeted.
Were I only to suffer death, after being ad¬
judged'guilty by your tribunal, I should bow
in 'silence, and- meet the fate, that awaits me
without' a pikrmur; but. the. sentence of the
law which'delivers my body to the execution¬
er, will, through the ministry, of that law, la¬
bor in itg own vindication, to consign, my
character ,to obloquy for Jhefe must be guilt
somewhere; whether in- the sentence of the
IU LIFEJQF EMMETT.
Court or in the catastrophe/ posterity must de¬
termine. A man in. my situation, my Lords;
has not q-nly-t® encounter the -difficulties of
fortune, ajid'the force of power, ever-mind$
which it has corrupted or subjugated, but the
difficulties of established, prejudice ; the man
dies, but his memory fives; that mine' may-
not perish—that if 'may five in the respect of
my-countrymen—I seize upon? this opportune,
ty, to vindicate myself.from some, of the
charges alleged against me. When jny spirit
shall be wafted to a more friendly-port—-when
my shade shall have .joined the bands of those
martyred heroes who have -shed their blood -on
the scaffold and in the field, in defence of their
country and of virtue, this is my hepe—I wish
that my memory and name may animate* those
who survive me, while I look down with com?
placency on the destruction - of that perfidious
government, which lipholds its dominion by
blasphemy of-the-Most High; which displays
its "power over man as over the beasts, of the
forest; which sets man upon his|brother, and
lifts his hand in the'name'of God, against the
throat of his fellow, who believes or doubts a
little more than the Government standard—-a
Government steeled to barbarity by the' cries of
LIFE OF EMMETT,
135
the orphans and the tears of the widows which
it has made".
[Herv Lord Norbury interrupted Mr. Em-
sheti—saying, that the rnean *and wicked en¬
thusiasts who feltjis.he did, were- not equal to
the accomplishment of their wild design.]
I appeal to the immaculate God—I swear by
the throne ff 'Heaven, before which "I must
-shortly appear—by the blood df-the murdered
patriots* who have gone before md, that*.pay-
conduct has -been, through all this peril and
through all my purpose's, governed only by the
convictions which I have uttered, hild by no
other- view than that of their 'curer and the
emancipation of my1 country from the superim
human oppression.undef which'she'lias so long
and too patiently trava'ildd'J and I ^confidently
and assuredly, hope" that, Wild and chimerical*
as it may appear,. there is still union and
strength in Ireland to accomplish this noblest
enterprise*
OF this I speak with the confidence of inti-
1 • % - ++ 4 +
mate knowledge, and"with the consolation that
appertains to .that confidence. "'Think not,
my Lords, I say this for the.petty gratification
©f giving you a transitory* .uneasiness ; a man
who never yet raised his voice to • assert a lie,.
130 LIFE OF EMMET£.
will not hazard his-character with posterity by
asserting a falsehood on a subject so important
to his country, and on an .occasion like this.
.Yes, my Lords, a man who does not wish to
have his epitaph written until his country is
liberated, will not leave a weapon in the pow¬
er of envy, nor a pretence to impeach the pro*
bity. which he means to preserve even in the
grave to which tyranny consigns him.
[Here he was again interrupted, by the
Court.']
Again, ,1 say, that what I have spoken was
not intended for your. Lordship whose situa¬
tion I commiserate rather than envy—my ex¬
pressions were, for my countrymen—if there Is
a true Irishman present, let my Jast words cheer
him in the hour of affliction.
[Here he was again interrupted; Lortt
Norbury §aid he.did not sit thete to hear trea¬
son.]
,1 have always understood it to'be the duty
of a judge, when a prisoner has- been convict¬
ed, to pronounce" the sentence "of the law; I
have also understood ^hat judges' sometimes
think it their duty to hear with patience, and
to speak with humanity ; .to exhort the.victim
of the. laws, and to offer, with tender henig4-
„ LIFE OF EMMETS 131
nity, his opinion of tjhe motives by which ho
was actuated in the crime of which he was
adjudged guilty. That a judge has thought it
his duty so to have done, I have no doubt; but
where is the boasted freedom of youf institu¬
tions—where is T&& vaunted impartiality,"cle¬
mency,'and, mildness of your courts of justice,
ifan unfortunate prisoner, whom your policy,
and not your justice, isubout to deliver into the
hands of the executioner, is hot suffered to ex¬
plain his motives sinfeerely and truly, and to
vindicate the principles by which he was-ac¬
tuated.
My Lords, it may be a part of the system of
angry jus;fice to bow a man's mind by humilia¬
tion to the proposed ignominy "of the'scaffold—
but worse to me than the proposed shame ©r
the scaffold's terrors, would "be the shame of
§uch foui and "unfounded imputations as haVe
been laid against me" in this "court." - You, my
Lord, are a Jndge ; I am the-supposed culprit;
I am a man; you'are a fnan also ; 'by a revolu¬
tion of power,- we might change places,"though
we never could change characters. If I stand
at the bar of this court and dare not vindicate
my character, what a farce is your justice ! If
1 stand at this bar,'"and dare-not vindicate my
I.a8 LIFE OF EMMETT.
character,. fcow dare you calumniate it ? Does
the sentence qf death, which your unhallowed
policy inflicts, upon my body, also condemn my
longueto silence, and my reputation "to' re¬
proach? Your , executioner may abridge the
period of my existence, but'whilst Imxist I
shall not forbear to .vindicate my character and
my motives- from your aspersions; and as" *a
man to whom.fame is dearer than life, I wilt
. make the last use of that life in doing justice
to that reputation which is to live after me,
and which is the only legacy I can leave to
those I honour and-lov&, and for whom I am
proud to .perish.
"As mehr my'Lords, we must-appear, on the
great day .at one common tribunal and it will
then remain for .the Searcher -of all. hearts to
show a collective universe, who ^yas engaged
in the most virtuous actions o£actuated by the
purest motive—my country's oppressors,'on
[ifere he was,again interrupted, and told to
listen to the sentence oj the /azc.J '
"My Lords, will a dying man be denied the
legal privilege of exculpating himself, in the
eyes of the community, of an undeserved re¬
proach thrown- upon him during the trial, by
charging him with ambition, and attem'pting to
"UFH OF EMMETT.
139
sast away*, for a paltry consideration, the liber¬
ties" of his country ? - Why did your Lordships
insult me ? or rather, why insult justice, jn -de¬
manding-of me why sentence of death, should
not'be^pronounced against, me? I know,yny
Lord*; that form prescribes that ypu should ask
the "question—the form also implies the right
of answering; This,-no doubt, .may be dis¬
pensed with, and so might the whole ceremony
of the trial, .since sentence was already pro¬
nounced at the Gastle,-before y-our jury was
empannelled." Your-Lordships* are but .the
priests of the Oracle, and I submit—but I insist
on the whole of the- forms. ,
[Here Mr. Emmett paused, and the Court
desired him to proceed.]
UI am charged with being >n emissary of
France. . An emissary of France ! and for what
end.? It is alleged* that I wished-to self-the in¬
dependence of my country ! .and for what end ?
Was this the object of .my pmbition? and is
this the mode by which a'tribunal of justice
. reconciles contradictions^ No'!. I;am no emis¬
sary; and my ambition was-to hold a place
among the deliverers of rnry country—not in
power, nor in pro^t, but in the glory of the
achievement. Sell my country's Independ-
i4Q LIFE OF EMMETT:
ence to France! and for what ? Was it for a.
change of masters ? No, but for ambition 1 O,
my1 country! was it personal ambition that
could influence me? Had it*been the soul of
my actions, could t not by my education and
fortune—by the rank and consideration of my
family, have placed myself among the proudest
of my country's oppressors ? My country was
my idol; to it Tsacrificed every selfish—'every
endearing sentiment—and for it I'now offer tip
my life. ' O, -God ! No ! my Lord; 1 acted as
*an Irishman, determined on delivering my
country from the yoke' of a foreign and unre¬
lenting tyranny, and the more' galling yoke of
a domestic faction, which is its joint partner
and perpetrator m-"the - patricide,"" for the igno¬
miny of existing with 'an exterior Of splendor
and"a conscious depravity it was the "wish of
my heart- to extricate my country frorn this
,doubly-rivetted despotism. J wished to place
her independence beyond the reach of any
power on earth—I wished ta exalt her to that
proud statiph in the world.
" Connection with Eranee* was, indeed, in¬
tended—but only as far as mutual interest
would sanction fit require. Were they to as¬
sume any authority inconsistent -with the pu*
LIFE OF EMMETT-.
141
rest independence, it'would, be the signal for
their destructionwe, sought aid. and we
sought it as we had assurance we should obtain
it—as auxiliaries in war, and allies in peace.
" Were the French to "come -as invaders -or
enemies^ uninvitedfoy the wishes of the people,
1 -should oppose them ,to the utmost of my
strength. Yes, -my countrymen, I would-meet
tfyem on the beach, with a sword in one hand
"and .a torclj in" the other; I would meet them
With all the destructive fury -of war, and I
would animate my countrymen to immolate
them in their boats, before they had contami¬
nated the soil.of my conntty. 'If they.suc¬
ceeded in landing, and if forced to retire before
superior discipline, I. would dispute every inch
of ground, burn every blade of grass' before
them,, and the .entrenchment of liberty
should .be my grave. What 1 could hot da
myself, if I should fall, I would leave as a last
charge to my countrymen to accomplish, be¬
cause I should feel conscious that life, any more
than death, is unprofitable when a foreign na¬
tion holds my country in .subjection.
_ " But it was npt as an enemy that the suc¬
cours bf France were toJand. i loofied^ in¬
deed, for the assistance hf France; but I wish-
1
142
iwi:-67'E5iMErrT,
ed to prove to France and to the world, that
Irishmen deserved to be assisted \ that they
Were; indignant at slavery, and ready to assert
the independence and liberty of their country.
" I wished to procure for my country" the
guarantee which Washington procured for
America. To procure an aid which, by its e^>
ample, would be a£ important as it§ valour—
disciplined, gallant, pregnant with science and
experience; who woufd preserve the good, and
polish the rough points of our character; they
would come to us as strangers and leave us as
friends, after sharing our perils and elevating
our destiny. These were my objects—not td
receive new taskmakers, but to expel old ty¬
rants ; these were my ^ views,- and these only
became Irishmen.; It was for these ends I
sought aid from France^ because France, even
as an enemy, could not be more implacable than
the enemy already in the bosom of my coun¬
try.
[Here he was interrupted by iKe Court.]
" I-have been charged with that importance
in the efforts tp emancipate my country, as to
be considered the keystone of the combination
of Irishmen, or as your Lordship expressed- it't
" the life and blood-of the conspiracy.", You
LIFE OF EMMETT.
143
do me honour over much j -you hfrve- given to
the subaltern all the credit of a -superior.
There are men engaged in this conspiracy, who
are notfonly superior to me, but- even to your
own conceptions' of' yourself, my Lord, before
the splendor of wliose genius and Virtues I
should bow with respectful deference, and who
would think themselves dishonoured to be call¬
ed yout friend, and who would" not disgrace
themselves by shaking yoUr blood-'sfairied hand.
[Here he 'turns again interrupted.]
" What, my Lord! shall you tell me, on the
passage to that scaffold, which that tyramiy (of
which" you are only the intermediary execu¬
tioner) has erected for my murder, that I am
accountable'for all the blood that has and will
be shedr in this struggle of the oppressed against
the oppressor—shall you telf'me this, and shall
I be so vefy a slave as hot to« repel it ?
161 do notr fear to approach- the Omnipotent
Judge, to answer'for the conduct of my whole
life, and attr 11© be appalled and falsified by a
mere remnant of mortality here !" "By you, too,
who, if it were possible to collect all the inno¬
cent blood that you have caused to be shed, in
your unhallowed ministry, into one - great re¬
servoir, your Lordship might swim in it.
M4 . OS
[Here'the Judge interfered.]
u Let no • man dare,-, "when I am dead, to
eharge me with dishonour; let no man attaint
my memory, hv Relieving that tcculd ha ye en¬
gaged in any cause but of my country's Hberty
and independence, or that I bedame the pliant
minion of power, in the^oppression- of,the mise¬
ries of my countrymen. The proclamation of
the Provisional Government speaks ,for ..our
views ; no inference can be tortured fropi it to.
countenance barbarity pr debasement at home,
or -subjection,, humiliation, or. treachery from
abroad; I would not havfe submitted to a for-,'
eign oppressor for the same reason, that I would
resist the present domestic oppressor. In the.
dignity of freedom, I would'have flight on the.
threshold of my country, and its enemy should'
only enter by passing oyer jpy lifeless corpse.*,
And am I, who lived byt for my .country, and
who have subjected myself to- the dangers of
the jealous and* watchful oppressor, and the
bondage of the grave, only,-to give my coun¬
trymen their rights and my country her inde¬
pendence—am Ltcv be loaded with calumny,
and not suffered to jegeilt t>r repel it i No, God
forbid!
[Here Lord Nor [airy told Mr.,Emmettlhat
LIFE' OF EMMET?.
145
his sentiments and language disgraced his
family and education, hut more particularly
his father, Dr. Emmett, who- was a mccn, if
alive, that"would not countenance such opin¬
ions.]
«" If the spirits.of the illustrious dead partici¬
pate ia the concerns and Cares 6? those whaare
dear to them in this transitory life—0 ever
dear and venerated shade of nay departed Fa-
•'ther, look down with scrutiny upon-the con¬
duct of your,'slithering son*; ar+d see if I have,
even for a moment, deviated from those princi¬
ples of morality and patriotism which it was
your care to instil into my youthful mind, and
for which I. am now to offer up my life.
u My Lords, yon are impatient for the sacri-
iice—.the blood which you seek is not congeal¬
ed by the artiffekiL. terrors that surround your
victim-; it circulates warm]y and unruffled
through the channels which God created, for
nobler purposes, but which ycti are bent to de¬
stroy, for purposes so grievous,, that they cry
to Heaven.. Be ye patient! I have but a few
words more'to say.. I am going to my cold
and silent grave : my lamp of life is nearly ex¬
tinguished : my race is run : the graye opens to
racejve me, and I sink into its bosom t I have
146 .IJFE OF EMMETT,
but one request to ask -at my .departure from
this, world p it is ,the charity of its silence!
Let no man_Write my epitaph j for as no-man
Who knows my motives dare - now vindicate
them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse
them. . Let fhetn and me repose in obscurity
and peace,, and nay tomb remain, uninscrlbed",
until other times,, and other men can 4° justice
to'my character. When-my country takesher
place among the nations of the earth—then,
and not till then—let my epitaph" be written,
I HAVE DONE'.
PART VI.
Emmett after hia Conviction—Letter to Richard. Currah—
Parting, interview tvith. MtssjGurrim—rUn+b
The unfortunate young man. retired from
the hall of his mock-triai to his dungeon—
showing the same firmness that ever character¬
ized him. He fell;, that he had made an hon¬
est effort to save hia country from oppression,
and that in so doing he had made a martyr of
rhjmself. Soon ha was led to the scaffold—in-
d6ed. his enemies were so eager for the blood
of their victim, that he was executed on the
day following his trial,
The following is a copy of his letter to
Richard Curran, the brother o'f his betrothed:
-"My dearest Richard:—I find I have but
a few hours ty live, but if it was the last mo¬
ment, and that yhe power of utterance'was
leaving me, I would thank you from the bot¬
tom of my heart for yorfr generous expressions
of affection and -forgiveness to me. If there
was any.one in the world in whose breast my
death may be supposed not to stifle' every spark
of resentment, it might be you. I have deep¬
ly injured you—I have injured the happiness of
LIFE OF EMMETT.
a sister that ycu love, and who_was formed to
give happiness to every one about her, instead
^ ~ J v* miudt a prey "to affliction.
UI IKtV lllg liu. -*_-■* ' ^ s J
Oh! Richard, I have no excuse to ctter^tHt,
that 1 meant the reverse: I intended as "much
happiness for Sarah as the incst ardent love
could have given her. 1 never did tell you
"how much Fidolized her: it was not'with a
wild* or unfounded passihn.; but it was an at¬
tachment increasing every hour, from an admir¬
ation of the purity of her mind' and respect f(Jr
"her talents. I did dwell iij secret upon the
prospect of our union, * I 'did hope that suc¬
cess, while it afforded the opportunity ofour
union, might be the means of Confirming an
attachment, which misfortune had called forth.
I. did not look to honors for myse|f*;% praise 1
would have" asked frofti the lips of no man ; but
I would have" wished to'read in tire glow of
Sarah's .countenance, " that her husband'was
respected.
" My love, Sarah ! it was net thus that I
thought Jo have requitCd yvmr .affections. I
did hope to be a prop rohnd which- your affec¬
tions might have elung, and which would nev¬
er have bceip shaken, but a rude* blast has snap¬
ped it, and they have fallen ever a grave.
LIFE OF EM^ETT. 14»
" This is^no time for affliction. I have had
public moti$&3*to sustain, niy-njind,'and I have
not suffered it tohsink: bht there "have been
moments in ray imprisonmehf-wheri ray mind
was so sunk by.grief on Tier account, that death
4 . * | « %
would have bebn a refuge.*
• 4 %
/'God bfess you, my dearest Richard. Iam
obliged to leave off innnediately.
Robert Emmett."
£ - * *
.This tetter was Written at twelve o'clpck on
the £ky of* Mr. Erpmeft's execution, and the
firnyiesg mid regalafijty of the. original, hand¬
writing contains ^ striking and effecting proof
of Jhe little influence which- the approaching
event exerted "oyer his.fraipe. The same en¬
thusiasm which allured, hhn to his destiny,
enabled lum'to support its utmost rigour. He
met hjs-fote \vith unostentatious fortitude ; and
although few will be found! bold enough to
justify his projects, since fhey were unsuccess¬
ful, yet his youth", his talents, the great respec¬
tability of his connections* and. the evident de¬
lusion of which lie Was the victim, have exci¬
ted more general sympathy foj his unfortunate
end, and more forbearance towards his memo¬
ry, than is usually extended to the errors (or
suffcrihgs of political offenders.
150 LtFE' 6i EMMEl*E.
What brought forth this, wonderful effort of
a young gentleman, unaided and unsupported
by any rational 'system of organization, imcoun-
tenanced but by the- humblest men in society, _
relying on his owa great energies, and the
thousand circumstances which chance might
throw up on the surface of the political ocean ?
What animated.the mindNand spirit of jdrnmett,
night after night, arid day afte* day? What?
His enemies Will say it was ambition, A hope'
of personal aggrandizement",, and a .^peculation
of personal exaltation, a sanguinary purpose to
raise himself oii the ruins of all .that was re¬
spected and cherished in society. "To such
enerriies w*e will reply thatj if ever a» enthu-*
siast was animated* with a Jure arid unadultera¬
ted sentiment of the .most disinterested anxiety
for the freedom of his native country—ff ever
there was a human being who'was ready to lay
down his life for the comfort, and happiness of
his fellow-creatures—if ever there was a heart
that sincerely, sympathised with the suffering?
of mankind, or that won)(f cheerfully devote
itself at the altar, if such a sacrifice could pro¬
cure the liberty of Ireland,—Ixobekt E&mett
was that man.
With an intellect of the "highest order, elo-
LIFE OF EMMETT; ■ 151
quence powerful, commanding', and inexhausti-
.ble.ait integrity. which no force could bend ;
ft spirit which no danger or suffering £oul'd in¬
timidate ; -bcfrn of -parents who were the pride
and boast of their jeountty ; the brother of those
men wh,o jn the birthday of Ireland's freedom,
illuminated the political firmament,, and gave
their country a hope that her freedom would
be immortal; the Witness of her fall, and the
spectator of her degradation, ha gave himself
up to.th§ dreams of his own imagination, and
thought :he saw the* liberties, of h-is country
achieved before he had formed his plan to se¬
cure them,, With all the customary character¬
istics of an enthusiast, he seemed to disdain
those humble calculations by which all human
objects are . to be obtained. But Einmett
achieved what no other man but himself would
have dared to attempt. With his single mind,
and his single arm, he organized thousands of
his countrymen, and heseiged the government
of the country in their strongest position. '
The evening before his death, Miss Curran
was admitted intp hie dungeon, to1 b'id him her
eternal farewell. He was leaning in a melan¬
choly mood against the. yindow of the prison,
and the heavy clanking of his ehains, smote
IM, LIFS OF E>:M2.TT.
dismally oil her heart. The interview was
bitterly affecting,-and mdhed even the jca-Ucm-s
soul-ef-tlw? jailer.* As for TErn-matt himself, bo
avepf, and s^oke- little ; bntf-rts- he pressed'hia
beloved in silence.to his heari„his bounteii&iiee
betrayed his* bmo\io?rs. 'T?n -st-ldif *v6ie£, half
choked by * anguish, 'he^ besought her net1 to*
forget him^" he reminded? "her of thqjf *forffier
happiiu&JS, of the Toby past dajrs of their child*-
hood," and concluded by requesting her some¬
times- iS visihthe scenes* where their * in ffrnhy
was spent, and thbirgh 'the world might repeat
his name -with -scorn, to eKftg*td-£ishmemmy:
with affection. In Rafting*, she ttihfa^* round,
as if to gazc-Onee more on her widowed ku*e.
He- oaught her e}*e as she retired—i tgwas btit"
for aunoment—and as the door-closed -en -him,
it informed her too surely- that they had met for
the Igst'time on earth, but that they,should?'
meet in a - better iVorid* where man could'nob
separate them.
Previous to his»execution-,. *as -the -governor-
was going his rounds^ die* entered Tvnmetf V
room rather*abruptly, and <yb?cryi«g- a- rcmark-
ablo expression I f .lira countenance, he trpoJe-
gized Ibf "the interruption, "lie had fork"
affixed to his iifiler deal- table, and appsrfrded to
WFB OF EilltETT. 15S
it there Was a tress of hair. ' Ycit see,! said he
to Ins keeper, ° hew. km<?cefft]y I "have beeti
occupied : this liftfe-tress, has bpen long dear to
gae, and. I am*plaiting!ft to wear in my bosom*
err the day of-my e'tfecutkm.' On'the day of
that fatal event, tbefe waS foVihd, sketched by
his Awn hata'd with a pen and ink', upon that
very tableman admirftida likeness- of himself,
the head severed from *liefftdy" vhiel f lay n ear
it, snrfo'uiTded by the scaffold, tlie axe cmd all
the paraphernal*! a of a'high treason execution.
What a strange union of' teudertfes^, enthusiasm
and fortitude, do* rfft the above: titdts of ■ char¬
acter exhibit!*" His fortitude indeed,-never for¬
sook'-him! on *t be*-night previous to'his death,
he -slept'as soundly as everp&nd when the fatal
morning riaWned, he aresie, knelt down and
j,-rayed*, ordered scme'teilk, Which he drank,'
wrote two letters* (ope to his bfother*in Amer¬
ica, and'tlie other to live* secretary of state, in¬
closing it.)-and then decked the sheriffs to*be
informed that he was ready. When tfiey came
to his room, he said he had two'requests to
make-: mre,' fhaf hrs arms might be left as
loose as possible^ which was humanely acceded
to. " 1 make-the cilkr," said he. "notunder
any idea that it can Le granted, hut that it may
MEG OP EMMETT.
Tie ireld in remembrance that I have, made it:
it is, that I may he- permitted to die in my mii-
form.f This, of course, w-a$ not'aliowed him j
and the request seemed to have^'oo other object
than to show that he gloried,in the cause for
which he was to,suffer. A remarkable exam¬
ple of his. ppwer, both oyej#himself arid .others,
occurred at this melancholy mpment. He was
passing out, attended.by the sheriffs and prece¬
ded by the executionerin one of the.passages,
stood the turnkey who had been personally
assigned to him $ wring 'his imprisonment r this
poor-fellow loved, him in. his heart, and the
tears were streaming,-£rom his eyes in -torrents*
Emmett paused for a moment; his hands were
not at liberty—he kissed* his clieek-r-and the
man who had been, for years the attendant of a
dungeon, habituated to scenes of horror, and
hardened against their- operation, fell senseless
at his feet. Before his eyes had opened agaiii
upon this world, those of the youthful .sufferer
had closed forever!
Mr. Emmett was Executed on the day fol¬
lowing that of his sentence, in .Thomas-street,
at the head -of Bridgefoot Street, opposite Cath¬
erine's. church.
* The rebel Uniform of Ireland was green.
LIFE OF EMMETT. 1.55
t
Robert Emmett, the lofty-miruled patriot—
ihe amiable enthusiast—the warm-hearted
friend, and ardent lover, is no more! Th,e
"hand of the> executioner extinguished the fire
and energy -of that soul, ^ which burned for his
country's good j pnd that tongue/of the purest
and sublimest eloquence", is now forever mute.
He "died as he livOd, \yjth. heroic fearlessness,-
and 'decent fortitude. ..The amiable, though
enthusiastic-'Emmett, howfiVej, we hope, hap
not died in Vain ; our pulers must leajrn from
his history -that-a people without confidence is
a moral Hydra, never to.^be deprived of the
fneans of doing mischief. The hp ad. of one
rebellion is no sooner-lopped- off, than another
•is generated. The Hercules, who is to annihi¬
late the monster, can only he found in those
acts of wisdom ^and justice-, which are to recon¬
cile the people to their rulers^ by making them,
freemen.
The fate of Robert Emmett demanded some*
thing, more thpn tears, and unprofitable as these
may.Jiave been, jve have continued to offer
them still to his memory. J3ut let our private
sorjowa pass„• "history one day will do him jus¬
tice ; we have thrown our mite in the scale in
which his reputation yet trembles j and, inade-
I5fr LIFE OP EMMETT.
quat© as thaf itiay bn, it is Sincere and impar¬
tial. All ye wh<3 knew llim in "his lieu r o£
pride" go an d'de likewise.
Speaking 'of 'Ml\ Emmett," Chas.' Phillips,
Esq.,-a distinguished Irish lawyer, says r
Upon hi&charaetef, of course, cftflferetit par¬
ties- will pass different"opinions. Here hersuf¬
fered fhe deatTi of a traitor—^iir'America his'
memory ,ik as 'that of far rftart-yr; ancT a full
lpngth portrait of him, trampling on a "crown,"
is one of their most popular -sign-posts. Of hi£
high honor, evelf Mr. Curran had an exalted.
opinion. Speaking of him tp me one "day, he
said": " I would have believed the'word of
Enamett, as t'oon as*the odth of any que I ewer
knew f' ^
Moofe, in his life ofLqrd Edward Fitzgerald,'
spoaldng qf Eitimett, *says; "Of this friend,
notwithstanding "his owrt dying*entreaty that*
the world wofihl txt^hcf td him the charity of
its silence, lean-not deny myself the gratifica¬
tion of adding a few words', considering that at
least the spirit of his vyisfi wilf hct"%e violated
in them.^ Were d to nninfer, indeed, the men
among all I hatre ever.kncwu, Vho^seemed to,
combine ju the greatest' degree pure tnorM
worth with intellectual power1,1 should, amdhg
LIFE OF EMtylETT. 157
the highest of the class, place Robjert Emjiett.
Wholly free from the follies and frailties of
ybuth—though how capable he was of the most
devoted'passion, events afterwards proved—the
pursuit of science, .in which he admirably dis-
tn^dJ.Gd.kiEi^f.jreemedfitthebime, the only
object that at "alL divided bis. attention with the
enthusiasm for Irish freedom, which- in • him
was an hereditary as well us a natural feeling,
himself being the second martyr his family had
given to the cause. Simple in all his habits,
and with a-repose of look and-manner-indicat¬
ing but littje movement within* it ;jvas only
when the spring.Was touched that set his feel¬
ings, and through them, his intellect, in motion,
that he at all rose above the level of ordinary
men. On no occasion was this more peculiarly
striking than in those displays of oratory with
which, both in the Debating and Historical
Society, he so often enchained the sympathy
and attention of his young audience. No two
individuals indeed eouid look more unlike to
each other than was this same youth to himself
before rising to speak and after—the brow that
had appeared inanimate, and almost drooping,
at once elevating itself in all the consciousness
of power, and the whole countenance and f.g-
158 LIFE OF EMMETT.
ure of the speaker assuming a change as of oni
suddenly inspired. Of his oratory, it must b*.
recollected, (I speak from youthful impressions,
but I have heard little since that appeared to
me of a loftier,-or what is far more rUre-in Irish
eloquence, purer character;) and the effeets it
produced, as well from .Its owirexcit.in g-ps-y/ct
as from the susceptibility with which the au¬
dience caught '.up every allusion to passing-
events, was such as to attract seriously the at¬
tention of the fellows; and, by their desire,
one of the scholars, a man of advanced stand¬
ing and reputation for oratory, came to attend
onr debates, expressly for the purpose of an¬
swering Emmett,' and endeavoring to neutral¬
ize the fervor of < his impassioned eloquence.
J3uch in heart and mind was another of the
devoted men, who, with gifts that would, have
made them the ornaments and supports of a
well-regulated community, were yet driven to
live the dives of conspirators, and die the death
of traitors, by a system of government Which it
would be difficult even to- think of with pa¬
tience, did we not gather a hope from the pre¬
sent aspect-of the whole, civilized world, that
such a system of bigotry and misrule can never
exist again."
'PART VII-
Some account of Miss Curran—Her devotion to the memory
of Emmett—Irving's Sketch of their love, <fcc.
Romance not reality, neither furnish an in¬
stance of. such genuine devotion' as that of
Sarah Gurran for Robert Emmett. She loved
him Etnd his-memory," though it excluded her
from the paternal!" roof,' and compelled her to
seek protection . among strangers. Charles
Phillips says in his new work:
" The curtain had fallen, the scaffold had its
victim, and" the world's idle work went on as
usual, after youth and,-genius,-and enthusiasm
had thus mournfully passed" away from it.
But there was one young heart which Em-
mett's image had long made its habitation—
that of <fhis love—Sarah.'' That heart was
now broken, but the image still remained amid
its ruins.~ The sequel Xo her. brief sad story
is soon told. Her home unhappyher father,
offended, her mind daily harrassed by associa¬
tions reminding her of happiness forever ban¬
ished, she sought a solace in the friehdly fami¬
ly of Mr. Penrose, in the vicinity of Cork.
She found, there a frequent guest in the person
im XJFE OF EMilETT.
of a Capt. StUrgeen. This gentleman became
deeply interested in her fate, and prevailed on
her, in her desolation, to accept his.hand,
though .she dpo- truly told him her affections
were in the grave? In a few short months she
was there herself, having, died in Sicily, br6-
ken-hearted. Her grave* is iiffthe village of
New Market, her father's birth-place. Who
can refuse to shed a.tear o'er it?'. The follow¬
ing .sweet lines -of Moore commemorate her
misfortunes ; and it. is said that wjien left alone,
she was heard to sing them at -Mr. Ifonrose's:
She is fay'froni the land where"her young hero sleeps,
-4nd lovers, are rovnd her sighing
Byt coldly she tflrns from their ga/.e artd weeps,'
For her heart iu his grave is plug.
^bo sings the' wil;1 song of her dear native plains,
Every note which he loved awaking;'
Ah r little they think who delight in hej- strains,
How. the hdart of the mrnstrel is breaking, ,
fee had liVd for "his love, for his country he died,
They wefe all that to-life had entwined him^
Hor,socn shall the tears of his country be dried,
Nor long will his love stay behind him.
t *
■ Oh! make hev~a gravje'wli^re the sunbeams rest,
When they make lief a glorious morrow;
They'll shine o'er her sleep, iike'a smile in-the west,
From hev own loved-island of sorrow..
LIFE OF EMMETE. 161
Captain Sturgeon, who survived her many-
years, died in battle in the Peninsula war.
Emmett's love breathed her last a resigned and
pious Christian."
Washington Irving,'"in his Sketch Book, pays
a beautiful tribdte 4to the memory* of this un- '
happy pair. If is said that Lord Byron had a
friend to jread this sketch to him on his dying
bed. Though' it is rather long, we give it in
full:
I never heard
•Of any triie affection, btft'twiis nipt
"With care, that like the caterpillar, eats
ffho, leaves spring's sweetest book, the rose.
MfbDLETON.
It is a common practice With those who have
outlived the susceptibility of ejfrly feeling, or
have been brought'up in the gay lieartlesshess
of dissipated life, to laugh at all love-stories, and
to treat the tales of romantic passion as mere
fictions of novelists and poets". My observa¬
tions on humajn nature have induced me to"'
think otherwise. They have convinced me,
that however the surface of the character may
be chilled and frozen by.the cares of the world,
or cultivated into mere smiles by "the arts of
society, still there are dormant fkjes lurking in
168 LIFE OF BMMETT.
the depths of the coldest hosom, Vhich,'when
once enkindled, become impetuous, and are
sometimes desolating in their effects. Indeed,
I pm a true believer in ^ the blind deity, and go
to the full extent of his doctrines. Shall t con¬
fess it ? I believe in, broken hearts, and the
possibility of dying of disappointed Love! I
do not however, c6nsider.it a malady often fa¬
tal to my own sex; but I firmly believe that
it withers down many a lofely woman into an
early grave.
Man is the creature .of interest and ambition.
His natufe leads him forth into the bustle and
struggles of the world'. Love is but the embel¬
lishment of his early^ life, or a song piped in the
intervals -of the acts. He seeks for fame, for
fortune,.for peace in the world's thoughts^and
domipion,over his fellow-hien. But a woman's
whole life is a history of the affections. The.
heart is her world; it is there her ambition
strives for empire—it is there her avarice seeks
for hidden^ treasures. She sends forth her
sympathies on adventure; she embarks her
whole soul in the traffic of affection: and if
shipwrecked, her case is hopeless—fbr. it is
bankruptcy of the heart.
To a man, the disappointments of love may
iilFE OF EMMETT.
163
cause some bitter^pangs it wounds some feel¬
ings of tenderness—it blasts some prospects-of
felicity ; but »he is an active beingyhe may dis¬
sipate his thoughtsnn the whirl" of varied occu¬
pation, or may plunge iq-to the tide,of pleasure ;
or, if the scene of disappointment be too- full of
painful associations,yhe Gan shift his abode at
will, and taking as it were^ the wings of the
morning,- can "fly to-the uttermost parts of the
earth, and her at ■rest."
But woman's is comparatively a fixed, a se¬
cluded, and a meditative life. She .is more the
' -v
companion of her own thoughts and .feelings;
and if they are turned to. ministers of sorrow,
where shall she iooh for conversation ? Her
lot is to be wooed and won j and if unhappy in
her love, her heart is like some fortress that has
heerl captured, and sacked and abandoned ayd
and left desolate.
How many ~ bright- eyes grojcv dim—-how
many soft cheeks grow pale-^hoiy many love¬
ly forms fade away into the tomb, and none
can- tell the Cause that blighted their loveliness !
As the dove will clasp its wings to its side, and
cover and conceal the arrow that is preying on
its vitals-*—so is it the nature of woman to hide
from the world the pangs of wounded affection.
154
LIFEE OF MMETT.
The love of a delicate female is always shy and
silent, Even • when fortunate she scarcely
breathes it to herself; but when otherwise she
buries it in ther recesses-of her bosom, and there
dets it cower and brood among the ruins of her
peace. With her the desire of her heart has
failed—the great qharm of existence is at ench
She neglects .all the cheerful exercises which
gladden the spirits,, quicker* the pulses,, and
send "the tide of life in healthful stream cur¬
rents through the veins. Her arest is broken—-
the sweet refreshment of sleep is poisoned by
melancholy dreams—"dry sorrows drink her
blood,"umtil her enfeebled- frame sinks under
the* slightest external injury. Lock for her^a
little while; and you find, friendship weeping
over hot untimely grave, -and wondering that
cue, who -but lately glowed with all. the ra¬
diance Of both health and beauty*should so
speedily be brought down to " darkness and
the worm." You will be told of some wintry
chill, some casual indisposition, that laid her
low—but no one knows the mental malady"
that previously sapped her strength and made
her so easy a' prey to the speile'r.
She is like some tender tree, -the pride and
beauty of the grovegraceful in its forms,
3LXFE OF EMMETT.
165
bright in its foliage, but with the worm prey¬
ing at its heart. We find it suddenly wither¬
ing, when it should be most fresh and luxu¬
riant. We see it dropping ,its branches,leaf by
leaf, unt'il, wasted and perished' away, it falls
•even in the still of the forest and as we muse
ever the beautiful rum, we strive in vain to
recollect the blast or thunderbolt that could
have smitten, it With decay.
I have seen many instances of women run¬
ning to waste and self-neglect, and disappear¬
ing gradually from the earth, almost as if they
had been exhaled to heaven ; and have re¬
peatedly fancied that I could .trace their deaths
through the various declensions of consump¬
tions, colds, debility, langour^ melancholy, un¬
til I reached the first symptom of disappointed
love. But ail instance of this kind was lately
told me; the circumstances are well known in
the country where they happened, and I shall
but give them in the manner in which they
were related.
Every one must recolleet the tragical story
of Emmett the Irish patriot—it \yas-too touch¬
ing to be soon forgotten. During the troubles
in Ireland, he. was tried, condemned and-exe¬
cuted on a charge of treason. His fete made a
3
166 XJFE OF EMMETT
' . *
deep impression on public sympathy. He was
*so young—so "intelligent—so generous—so
brave; so evefy thing that we are apt to like in
ayomig man. His conduct tinder trial, too,
was so lofty and intrepid, *The noble indigna¬
tion With which h*e repelled the charge of trea¬
son against his country; the eloqilent vindica¬
tion of his name; and his pathetic- appeal to poste¬
rity, in the hopelessliour of condemnation ; all
these entered deeply into every generous "bosom^
and even his enemies lamented the stern policy
that dictated his execution.
Eu't therg was one heart whose anguish it
would be impossible "to describe. ' In- happier
days and fairer fortunes he had won the affec¬
tions of a" beafitiful and interesting girl, the
daughter of a late c&lebrated Irish barrister.
She loved*him with the disinterested fervor of
a woman's first-and early love.' When every*
worldly **maxirfi arrayed itself against him;
wh.en blasted in fortune, and: disgrace" 'and dan-"4
get darkened around his name, she" loved
him the more ardently for lus very "sufferings.
If then, his fate'could awaken 'the sympathy
even of his foes, What must have been'the ago¬
ny of her, whose whole soul was occupied by '
Lis image ? Let those tell 'who have had the
LIFE QF EMMETL. 167
portals of the tomb suddenly closed between
them and the being they most loved on earth—
who have satrat its threshhold, as one shut out
in a cold and lonely world, .from whence all
that, was most lovely and loving had disappear¬
ed.
Bu$ then the horrors of spch a grave ! so
frightful, so dishonored! There was nothing
for mejnory to dwell o.u that could sooth the
pang.of separation •; none of those tender, though
melancholy -circumstances, that endear the part¬
ing scene—nothing to melt sorrow into those
blessed tears, sent like the dews of heaven, to
relieve the heart in the parting hour of anguish.
To render her widowed situation more deso¬
late,,she had incurred her father's displeasure
by her unfortunate attachmant" and -was .,an ex¬
ile from.the parental roof. But could the sym¬
pathy and kind offices, of friends have reached
a spirit so shocked and driven in by horror, she
would have, experienced no. wnnt of consola¬
tion, for the Irish are a people of quick and
generous sensibilities. The most delicate and
cherishing attentions were paid her by families
of wealth and distinction. She was led into
society, and they tried by all kinds of occupa¬
tion and amusement to dissipate her grief, and.
IdS LIFE.OF EMMfiTT,
w£an her from the tragical story of her love,
But it was all in vain. There are some strokes
of calamity that scathe and search the soul—
that penetrate tcf the vital sdat .of" happiness ;
that blast it never again to put forth bud or
blossom. She never objected to frequent the
haunts of pleasure, but she was as much alone
there, as hi the depths of solitude. She talk¬
ed about in a sad reverie, apparently uncon¬
scious of the world around heh ohe carried
with her* an'inward wo that'mocked at all the
blandishments of friendship, and "heeded not
the voice of the charmer, charm he never so
wisely."
The person who told me her story had, seen
her at a masquerade. There can be 110 exhi¬
bition of far-gone wretchedness more striking
and painful than to meet it iii silch a scene.
To find it wandering like a spectre, lonely and
joyless,, where all around is gay—to see it
dressed out in the trappings of mirth, and look¬
ing so wan and wo-begoue, as if it had tried in
vain to cheat the poor heart into a momentary
forgetfulness of sorrow. After strolling through
the splendid rooms and giddy^ crowd with an
air of utter abstraction, she "sat herself down
on the steps of an orchestra, and looking about
LIFE 0? EMMETT.
169
for some time with a vacant air. that showed
'her insensibility to- the garish scene, she began
with the capriciousness of a sickly heart, to
warble a little plaintive air. She had an ex¬
quisite voice; but on this occasion if was so
simple, so touching—it breathed forth, such a
soul of wretchedness, that she drew a crowd,
mute and silent, around her, "and melted every
one into tears.
The story of one so true and tend,er could
not but excite interest in a country* remarkable
for enthusiasm. If, completely won the heart
of a brave officer, who paid his address to her,
and thought that one so true to the dead, could
not but prove affectionate -to the living. She
declined his attentions, for her thoughts were
irrecoverably engrossed by the thoughts of her
former lover. He however persisted in his suit.
He solicited not her tenderness but her esteem.
He was assisted by her conviction of his worth,
and her sense of her own destitute and depend¬
ent situation, for* sh'e was existing on the kind¬
ness of friends, la a word^he at length suc¬
ceeded in gaining her hand ; though with the
solemn assurance that her heart was unaltera¬
bly another's.
He took her with him to Sicily, hoping a
170 LIFE OF EMSETT.
change of scene might wear out a memory of
early woe. She was an amiable and exempla¬
ry wife, and made an effort to be^a happy one;
but nothing could cure the silent and devour¬
ing melancholy that had entered into her very
soul. She wasted away in'm slow and hope¬
less decline, and at length sunk into the grave,
the victim of a broken heart.
The following poems have been written in
commemoration of this unfortunate young la¬
dy:
MISS C URBAN.
Her sorrows are numbered—no longer she weeps,
Every pang she endured is requited-;
With endless delight, and in silence she sleeps,
__ For-in death with he* love she's united.
Like Sidney he died, but bis naem'ry shall live
In the bosom of those who deplored him ^
And Pity her -purest of dew-drops shaLl give
To the sorrows o"f those who adored him.
LIFE OF EIvIMETT.
F#r h'e levoa—was belbved"—but alas! in his bloom,
The ordeal of .fate here sofe tried hi® ; .
And his spirit took flight from this world of gloom,
To that glory whiclahere was denied him. *■
Frojn regions of bliss—the high heavens abever
Yvrhere sorrows can never invade him,
He saw her distress; and he beckoned his loVe
To ascend, ai?d yitli joy she obeyed him.
And she who is joined to the spirit she mounted,
How in bliss, 'tis ill vain to deplor-e her ;
For her memory shall live in their bosoms inurnedj
"Who vowed eyen in death to adore her.
Whether hero, orlover, oyelse matters not,
" Other times—«-"otlier men shall divine him;'*
Let, him rest with his love, by the world forgot,
Yvre have hearts large enough to enshrine hint,
MT EMMETFS HO MORE.
BV THOS. MCOHE.
Despair in her wild eye, a daughter of Erin,
Appeared on The cliff of a bleak roiky shore,
Loose in the winds flowed her dark Streaming ringlets,
And heedless she gazed on th£ dread1 surge's roar.
Loud raDg her harp in wild tones of despairing,
The time passed away with the present comparing,
And in soul-thrilling strains deeper sorrow clechiring,
She sang Erin's wo^s, and her Emmett's no more 1
m
LIFE OF EMMETS.
Oli, Eriti! myjcountrv, your glory's departed,
For tyrants and traitors have stabbed thy he art's core*
Thy daughters have laved in the streams of affliction,
Thy patriots have fled, or are stretched in their gore.
Ruthless ruffians now prowl through thy hamlets forsaken,
From pale hungry orphans their last morsels have taken;
The screams of thy females no pity awaken ;
Alas! my poor country, your Emmett's no morel
" Brave was his spirit, yet mild as the Brahmin,
His heart bled in anguish at the wrongs of tlffl poor:
To relieve their hard sufferings he braved every danger,
The vengeance of tyrants undauntedly bore.
E'en before him the proud titled villains in power,
Were seen, though ip ermine, in terror to cower,
But alas! he is gone—he has fallen,«a young flower,
They have murdered my Emmett—my Emmett's no
more!"
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
ACCOUNT OF THE LATE PLAN OF INSURRECTION
IN DUBLIN, AND THE CAUSE OF FAILURE •
The plan was comprised under three heads
—points oj atfdck, points of check, and lines oj
dejence.
The points of attack were three:—The
Pigeon House, the Castle, and the Artillery
Barracks at Island Bridge.
The attack was .to begin with the Pigeon
House, number of men 200.. The place of as¬
sembly, the Strand, between Irishtowu -and
Sandymounf. The time, low water. The
men to divide into two bodies i. one to cross by
a sand bank, between the Pigeon House and
* Annexed to the copy from "which the above has been
transcribed, is the following memoran'dum, in the handwrit¬
ing of a gentleman Vho held a confidential situation under
the Irish government—" The original of this paper ,was de¬
livered *on the moyning just before he was brought out to
exeoution, in order to be forwarded to his brother,"Thomas
Addis Emmett, at Paris."
176 APPEKDIX,
Light House, where they were to mount the
wall; the other to cross at Devonshire Wharf;
both parties to detach three men with blunder¬
busses, and three with; jointed pikes, concealed,
who were to seize the sentries and gates /or the
rest to rush in. Another plan was formed for.
high water, by means of pleasure, or fishing
boats, going out in the morning, one hy one^
and returning, in the evening to the dock at the
Pigeon Housej where they were to land. A
rocket from this Was to be tLe signal for the
other two, viz:
Tire castle, the number of men 200. The
place of assembly, Patrick-street depof, A
hoitse-iii/ Shiprstreet was expected, also one
near the 'gate. A hvuilied men to be armed"
with jointed pikes and blunderbusses, the rest
to support them, aad march -openly Wi,th long
pikes. To begin by the entrance of two job
coaches, hackney cOachmen, two footmen, and
six persons, inside, to drive in at the upper gate
into the yard, come out of the* coaches, turn
back and seize the guard, (or instead of one of
the job coaches, a sedan going in af the same
time; with two footmen, two Chairmen, 'and
one inside;) at the same moment a person was,
in ease of failure, "to knock at Lamprey's door,
APPENDIX. m
#
Seize it and let in oiherk, to come down fey a
scaling ladder from a window on the top ot the
guard-house, while attacks were made H a pub¬
lic house in Ship-stree't, which has three win¬
dows commanding the guard-house, a gate in
Stephen-street, another at the Atmgier-str£et,
end of Great George's-street, leading to the ord¬
nance, another at the new houses in GeoY^e's-
street, leading to the riding y'ard| and another
over a piece of a brick wall near " the Palace-
street gate. Scaling ladders for all these.
Fire-bails, if necessary, for the guard-house of
the upper gate. The Lord Lieutenant and
principal officers of government, together with
the bulk of artillery, to be sent off under an
escott to the commander in Wicklow, in case
of being obliged to retreat. I'forgot to men¬
tion that the same Was to be done with as much
of the. Pigeon ' House stores as could be. An¬
other party with some "artillery to come into
town along the quays, and take' post at Car- -
lisle Bridge, to act according to circumstances.
Island Bridge, 400 men. Place of assembly,
Quarry-hole opposite, and Burying ground.
Eight man with pist'ols and one with a blun¬
derbuss, to seize the sentry "walking outside,
seize the gates, same to rush seize the cannon
APPENDIX.
opposite the gate, the rest to mount on all sides
by seeding ladders; on seizing this to send two
cannon over the bridge facing the barr.ack road.
Another detachment to bring cannon down
James-street, another towards Rathfarnham as
before. To each of the flank points, when
carried, reinforcements to be sent, with horses,
&c. to transport the artillery. Island Bridge
only to be maintained; a false attack also
thought of, after the others had been made on
the rear, of the barracks, -and if necessary, to
burn the hay stores in the rear.
Three rockets to be the signal that the at¬
tack on any part was made, and afterwards .a
rocket of stars in case of victory, a silent one
of Repulse.
Another, point. of attack, not mentioned;
Cork-street* Barracks ; if the officer could sur¬
prise it, and set fire to ^.t; if not, to take post in
the house (I- think in Earl-street, the street at
the end of pork-street, leading to Newrparketj
looking down the street with musquetry, two
bodies of pikemenin Earl-streef,) to the right
and left of Cork-street, and concealed^ from
troops marching in that street. Another in, I
think, Marrowbone-lane, to take them in rear.
APPENDIX. 179
Place of assembly, fields adjacent, or Fen ton
fields.
Points of Check.—The old Custom-house,
300 men, the gate to be shut or stopped with a
load of straw, to be previously in "the street.
The other small gate to be commanded by
musquetry, and the bulk of the 300 frten to be
distributed in Parliament-street, Crane-lane,
and those streets falling into Essex-street, in
order to attack them if they forced out. The
jointed pikes and blunderbusses lying under
great coats, rendered all these surprises unsus¬
pected ; fire balls, if necessary, and a beam of
rockets.
An idea also was, if money had been got, to
purchase Rafferty's cheese shop, opposite to .it
to make a depot and assembly; and to mine
under and blow up a part of the Custom-house,
and attack them in confusion, as also the Cas¬
tle. The miners would have been .got also to
mine from a cellar into some of the .streets
through which the army from the barracks
must march.
The assembly was at the Coal-quay.
Mary-street barracks, sixty men. A house-
painter's house, and one equally removed on
the opposite side, (No. 36,1 believe,) whose
130 APPENDIX.
fire commands the iron gate of the barrack?
without being exposed-to the fire from it, to be
occupied by twenty-four blunderbusses; the
remainder, pikemen, to remain near Cole's-lane
or to be teady in case of rushing out- to attack
them. Assembly, Cole's-lane market, or else
detached from Custom-house body*.
The corner house of Ca'pel-street, (it was
Kiily Kelley's) commanding in" Ormond-quay,
and Dixon, the shoemaker's (or the house be*
yond it,) which open suddenly on the flank of
the army, without-being exposed to their fire,
to, be occupied by blunderbusses. Assembly
detached from Custom-house body.
Luxes of Defence.—Beresford-street has
six issues from Church-street, viz : Coleraine-
street, King-street, Stirrup-lane, Mary's-dane,
Pill-lane, aifd the Quay. These to be chained
in -the fifst instance by a body of chaimnen ;
double chains and padlocks were deposited, and
the-Sills of the doors marked. The blockade
to bd afterwards filled up; that on the Quay
by bringing up the coaches from the strand,
and oversetting them, together with the butch¬
ers' blocks from Ormond-market • The houses
over the chairis to be occupied with hand
grenades, pistols and stones, Pikemen to
APPENDIX. 181
parade in BeresfordJstreet, to- attack instantly
any person that might penetrate ; the number
200. Assembly, Smithfielddepot, where were
800 pikes for reinfercements: The object was
to force the troops to march towards the Castle,
by the other side of the water, where the bulk
of the preparations and men to receive them
were.
Merchant's Quay. In case the army, after
passing the Old Bridge, marched that way,
Wogan's house and a Birmingham warehouse
next to it to be occupied with musquetry, gre¬
nades, and stones; also, the leather crane at
the other end of the Quay; a beam to be be¬
fore the crane, lying across the Quay, to be
fired at the approach of the enemy's column.
A body of pi'kemen in Wine tavern-street., in¬
stantly to rush on them in front; another body
in Cook-street to do the same, five lanes open¬
ing on their flank, and by Bride-street In their
rear. Another beam in Bridge-street, in cash
of taking that route, and then the Cook-street
body to rush out instantly in front; a beam in
Dirty-lane ; main body o*f pikemefL in Thomas-1
street to rush on them instantly o'n firing the
beam. The body on the Quay to attack'on
rear; in case of repulse, Catherine's Chinch,-
18* APPENDIX.
Market house,. and two houses adjacent, that
command that street, occupied with muscjuetry.
Two roeket batteries near the Market house, a
beam before it, body of.pikemen in Swift's-
hlley, and that range, to rush on their flank, a if
ter the beanj was fired through Thomas-court,
"Vicar-street, and three other issues ; the corner
houses of these issues to be occupied by stones
and grenades; the entire of the other side of
the street to be .occupied with stones, &c. the
flank of this side to' be protected by a chain at
Jamds-gate, and Ghiness's drays, &c. the rear
of it to he protected from Cook-street, .in case
the officer there failed, by chains across Rains-*,
ford-street, Crilly's-Yard, Meath-street, Asl\-
Street, and Francis-street. The Quay body to
co-opbrato"by the jssuea before mentioned,, fat
tiie other Side,) the chains of which would be
opened by us immediately. In ease of further
repulse, the houses at the corner, of Cutpurse-
row, cdmnjanding the lanes at each iside of the
Market-house, tire two houses in High-street,
commanding that open, and the cprner houses
-of Castle-street, commanding Skinner-row,
{now Christ Church-place) to fie successively
occupied. In cgs;o of a final retreat, the routes
to be three.' Cork-street, to Templeogue, New-'
APPENDIX. 189
street, Rathfarnhani, and Camden-street depart¬
ment. The bridges of the Liffey to be covered
six feet deep with boards- full of long nails,
bound down by two iron bars, with spikes
eighteen inches long, driven through them into
the pavement to stop a column of cavalry, or
even infantry.
Tiie whole of this plan was given'up by me
for the want of means, except the Castle ancT
lines of defence, for I expected 3O0 Wexford
men, 400 Kildare men, and 200 Wicklow, all
of whom had fought before, to begin the sur¬
prises at this si(le of the wafer, and by the pre¬
parations for defence, so as to give time for the
town to assemble. The county of Dublin was
also to act at the, instant *it began—the number
,of Dublin people acquainted with it 1 under¬
stood tcbe 4 or 5,000. I expected 2,000 to as¬
semble at Cestigan's Mills, the grand place of as¬
sembly. The evening before, the Wicklow
men failed, through their officer. The Kildare
men who were to act, (particularly with me,)
came,in, and at five o'clock went off again
from the Canal-harbour, on a jeport that Dublin
would not act. " In Dublin itself, it way given
out by some treacherous or cowardly person,
that it was postponed, till Wednesday. The
184 APPENDIX.
time of assembly was from six till nine Instead
of 2,00ft, there- was eighty men assembled,
when we came to the Market-house they were
diminished to eighteen or twenty. The Wex¬
ford men did assemble, I believe, to the amount
promised, on the Coal-quay; but 300 men,
though they might *be sufficient to begin on k
sudden, were not so, when government had
fiVe hours' notice by express from Kildare.
Added to this, the preparations were, from
an unfortunate series of disappointments in
money, unfinished, and scarcely any blunder¬
busses bought up.
The fnen who were to turn 'the fuzes and
rammers for the beams forgot them, and went
off to Kildare to brings men, and did not return
till the .very day. The consequence was, that
all the beams wera not loaded, nor mounted
with whfeels, nor the train-bags, of course, fas¬
tened on to explode them.
From the explosion in Patrick-street, I lost
the jointed pike's which were deposited there,
and the day of action was fixed on before this,
and could not.be changed.
I had no means of making up for their loss
but by the hollow beams full of pikes, which
struck me three or four days before the 23d.
APPENDIX.
135
From the delays in getting the materials, they
were not able to set about them till the day be¬
fore ; the whole of that day and the next, which.*
ought to have been spent in arrangements,
was obliged to'be employed in work. Even
this, from the confusion bccasioned by men
crowding into the depot from the country, was
almost impossible.
The person wlio had the management of the
depot mixed, by accident, the slow Inatches
that was prepared, with what was not, and all
our labour went for nothing.
The fuzes for'the grenades he had ajso laid
by where he forgot them, and could not find
them in the crowd.
The cramp irons could not be got in time
from the smiths, to whom we could not com¬
municate the necessity of despatch ; and 'the
scaling-ladders were not finished (but one.)
Money came in at five o'clock, and the trusty
men pf the depot, who alone knew the-town,
were obliged to be sent ou't to buy up blunder¬
busses, for the people ' refused to acf without
some. To change the day \vas impossible,
for I expected the counties to act, and feared
to lose the advantage of" surprise. The Kil-
dare men were coming in for three days; and
186 APPENDIX.
after that it was impossible to draw back.
Had I another weekr had I Cine thousand
pounds; had I one thousand men, I would
iiave feared nothing. There was redundancy
enough in any one part to have made up, if
complete, for deficiency in the rest; but there
was failure in all—plan, preparation, and mem
I would have given it the respectability pf
insurrection, but I did, not uselessly wish to
spill blood: I gave no signal .for the rest, and
.they all escaped.
. I arrived time enough in the country to pre¬
vent that part of it which had already gone out
with one of my men, to disarm the neighbor¬
hood from proceeding. I found that by a mis¬
take of the messenger, Wicfildw would not rise
that night—I sent off to prevent, it from doing
so the next, as it intended. It offered supplise
even after, the defeat, if I wished it, but I re¬
fused. Had it risen, Wexford would have
5
done the same. It began to assemble, but its
leader kept it bask till he knew the fate of
Dublin. In the state Kildare was in, it would
have done the same. I was repeatedly solicit¬
ed by some of those who. were with, me to do
so, but I constantly refused. The more re-
APPENDIX. 187
mote comities did Dot rise, for want of money
to Send them the signal agreed on."
I know -how men without candour will pro¬
nounce on this failure, without knowing one of
the circumstances that occasioned it. They
will consider only-that they predicted it;
whether its failure was caused by chance, or
by any of the 'grounds 011 which they made
their prediction, they will not care—they will
make no distinction between a prediction ful¬
filled and justified-—they will make no com¬
promise of errors—they will not recollect that
they predicted also that nor system could be
formed—that no secrecy nor confidence could,
be restored—that no preparations could be
made—that no day could be fixed, without be¬
ing instantly known at the Castle ; that govern¬
ment only waited, to let the conspiracy ripeu^
and crush it at their pleasure ; and that on these
grounds only clid they predi. : its miscarriage.
The very same men tliat after success would
have flattered, will now calumniate. The very
same .men, that would have made an offering
of unlimited sagacity at the shrine of victory,
will not now bo content to take back that ppr-
tion that belongs of right to themselves, but
would violate the sanctuary of misfortune^ and
18a APPENDIX,
Strip her of that? covering that candour would
have left her. ' H- E.«
^TH'E0BALX> WOLFE TONE.
We are indebted for the following account
of this distinguished Irish patriot, to ]Vh\ Chas.
Phillips' new w<5rk}< ""Ourraj and his" Contem¬
poraries
" In this mournful year an episode occurred
in the professional life Qf Mr.,Currau, highly
indicative .of his spirit, disinterestedness, and
intrepidity—the capture and condemnation of
Theobald Wolfe Tone—a Very extraordinary
man in very extraordinary times.^ The son of
a coachrnaker in Dublin, lie was educated in
Trinity College, where he "distinguished him¬
self, and was called to the Irish bar in Trinity
term, With Tittle relish originally for
the law, ha sobn, to use his own expression,
ceased to " wear a foolish wig and gown,''and
APPENDIX.
applied himself devotedly to politics. At first
he seems to have somewhat coqueted with the
Whig- party ; but as he would-not stoop low
enough for them, and they would not go far
enough for him, the overtures—for they were
little more—terminated in Tone's undisguised,
disgust, and *tlie- permanent hostility of Mr.
George Pohsonby. • It was impossible, indeed,
that any constitutional party in the state could
have conscientiously coalesced with Tone, see¬
ing that his objects Were the separation of the
countries, and the establishment of-what he
called Ireland's independence, in the shape of
a republic. His published journals leave mo
doubt as to his indentions. Agent and secreta¬
ry to the Catholic-body, and* founder of the So¬
ciety of United Irishmen—that he became even
more than was suspected, is. clear from a little
anecdote which he himself relates. A group
of idlers gossiping one day in the Four Courts,
Plunket, who made One'of them, thought it as
well-to be on the look-out—a habit which
grew on him. "Well, Tone, remember, all I
ask -of you is Carlorin—the future chancellor
modestly contenting himself with the estate of
the Duke of Leinster. Tone taughingfy. re¬
plied, u No, no, Plunket, the duke's my friend ;
9
APPENDIX.
but I promise you Curraghmcre." Curragh*
more belonged ,to the Marquis of Waterford,
and a Beresford stood at his elbow at the mo¬
ment. Curran was one of Tone'a intimates,
and, according to his son, at -that time partici¬
pated in his political, opinions. "I know,"
sayphe, "that in the years 1794 arid 1795,
and particularly at Drogheda Assises in the
former year, and^on the- occasion of the .trial of
Bird and Hammil, where they were hoth em¬
ployed as counsel, he opened his mind fo my
father; and that on the main point—on the
necessity of breaking the connection with Eng¬
land—they agreed.'' Mr. T one has not furnish¬
ed us with the grounds for his knowledge.
However, whatever Curran's theory might
have been upon, the subject, there can be no
doubt he was too. wise-bought I not rather to
say, too sane a man ?—to have, even for a.mo¬
ment, contemplated it as a reality.. True, he
loved Ireland in his heart's core, but he knew
well a very problematical independence must
have been waded to through her blood. Y oung
Tone admits, indeed, that " he avoided com¬
mitting himself in the councils of the United
Irishmenand I can avoiich that in his latter
days, no tqau j^ore indignantly denounced the
APPSSJDJX.
m
agitation of which he was anun willing witness.
"It goes to my heart, Phillips," he has often
said, ufo see those mean, miserable hurdy-
gurdy men grinding their discord through the
cpuntry. It was on Jackson's trial, to which
reference has been made, that a paper was dis¬
covered completely compromising Tone. The ar¬
dent -friendship, however, of men who abnorred
his politics, saved his life j indeed, the gentleness
of his manners .and the kindness of his nature
rendered*, personal .enmity almost impossible.
Lord, Clare and George Ponsonby seem alone
to have entertained it. Through the interfer¬
ence of the Honorable Marcus jBeresford! I^r.
George Knox, and _ Wolfe, the .attorney gene¬
ral |! he was permitted to expatriate himself.
Accordingly, in the month of May,. 1795, Tone',
with his wife, his sister, three children, and
seven hundred pounds—his whole worldly
treasure—sailed for America, where he landed
in the August following,. It is scarcely ppssi-.
ble to conceive any thing more desolate than
his then condition. An exile from his country,
an outcast from his profession, iri a strange
la!nd, with heavy claims on him, and but scanty
resources, it required fortitude^such as he hap¬
pily, possessed, to sustain him. But his was a
192
APPENDIX.
heroism made to defy misfortune. The first
design was to have settled down As a tarmer in
Princeton, New Jersey, when letters from Ire¬
land changed all his purposes, and turned his
future life^almost into a fairy tale. On the
eve of his expatriation, he accompanied a
friend, named Russell, to hid farewell to Thom¬
as Addis Emrnett, destined so 3Don to follow
him. "He received* us,"' s^ys Tone, "in a lit¬
tle elliptical study," which he was building at
the bottom of hislawn, and which *he meant
to consecrate to our meetings, if ever we lived
to see Ireland emancipated." It was in a small
" triangular field, exactly like the one in Switz¬
erland where T^ll and his associates planned the
downfall of the Tyranny of Austria," that
Tone developed his plan to his companions.
He told them that he did not consider his com¬
promise with government extended farther
than to the banks of tM Delaware ; and that
his offence—great, 110 doubt—was'abundantly
expiated by his exile. This was mere casuis*
try, as it appears to me, unworthy of his char¬
acter and understanding. ^ No government,
most assuredly, would have spared his lite, ex¬
cept on the implied^ if not expressed condition
that it was not to be employed for the future
APPEXDIX.
193
ill compassing their destruction. The project,
however, which he seriously entertained, seem¬
ed to carry on the face of it its utter impracti¬
cability. It was, apparently, as wild, as shape-_
less, and as visionary a phantom as ever possess¬
ed the brain of a monomaniac. This lonely
and^ unfriended exile was to seek an introduc¬
tion to the French minister in Philadelphia, to
obtain from him an introduction to the French
Directory in Paris, and from the Directory to
obtain the invasion of Ireland! All the re¬
sources of a mighty republic—her fleets, her
armies, and her treasures—were at once to be¬
come plastic in the hands of one who had not
an acquaintance in the country or a guinea in
the world, and whose tirst political experiment
was a failure, followed by a banishment. Ve¬
rily, the pen of Cervantes becomes rational in
the comparison. Yet, strange to say, Russell
and Fmmett (the latter one of the ablest men
in Ireland) applauded the undertaking, and in
the lt triangular field" the vow of the three
ftiends was pledged^ never to desert the cause
of their country. .Thby kept that vow. The
emissaries of sedition were not inactive; the
whole north of Ireland became one mass of
organized discontent; and Tone in Philadel-
194 APPENDIX.
phia received from his friends supplications 'to
proceed. The whole affair seems like a ro¬
mance, yet the romance was to become a real¬
ity. "Impelled by the restless energies and in¬
domitable perseverance of an expatriated refu¬
gee, France sent forth "a mighty armament—
the flower of her navy, -and her veterans, with
their hero at its head-^-"alone he did it." His
first step was'to wait upon Citizen Adet, the
resident French minister, tendering trim, by
way of credentials, certain complimentary cer¬
tificates on vellum, which had been presented
to him by the Roman Catholic committee.
Adetj as might be expected, declined all com¬
munication. Tone, however, was not easily
to be baffled; and on the 1 st of February,
1796, he landed at Havre with Citizen AdOPs
recommendation to the Directory safe in his
portmanteau. On his arrival in Paris he pro-
ceeded to Monroe, the United States embassa¬
dor, and procured from him an introduction to
Clarke, afterward Duede Feltre. Nothing caja
be more interesting than the details in Tone's
journal, from his first interview with Carnot,
the «<■ organizer of victory," in his u petit cos¬
tume of white satin, with a crimson robe richly
embroidered," down to his departure on the
A'PPEKKX
195
expedition which cost him his life. Well, in¬
deed, did he redeem his pledge to Russell and
to Emmett; and well and truly might he ex-
ultingly describe himself as " hunted from his
ofvn country as a traitor,, living obscurely in
America as an exile, and received in France by
the executive Directory almost as an embassa¬
dor." Despjte of every species of discourage¬
ment, from poverty, jealousy, suspicion, and
distrust, did this forlorn but heroic man persist,
till he trode the deek of the Indemptable, of 80
guns, high in the command of an army num¬
bering 15,000 choice troops,, carried by a fleet
of IT sail of the line, 13 frigates, and 13 trans¬
ports. Credulity is startled at this Herculean
result of the efforts of one man, and he an exile,
a stranger, and a pauper. Such, indeed, were
his necessities, that, but a day or two before
his appointment of chef de brigade, we find
him without a shilling, obliged to Carnot
for the means of subsistence. The command
of this fine expedition had been confided to
Hoche, at that time the hope and hero of the
French nation. Tone thus relates their meet¬
ing ! " I was sitting by appointment in Fleu-
ry's cabinet, when the door opened, and a very
handsome, well-made young fellow, in a brown
198 APPENDIX.
coat and naiikeen pantaloons?, entered and said*
' Vous vous etes le Citoyen Smith ?' I thought
he was a chef de bureau, and replied, ' Oui, ci¬
toyen, je m'appelle Smith,' He said, ' Vous
yous appellez aussi,. je crois, Wolfe Tone?'
I replied, .'Oui, citoyen, c'est mon veritable
nom,' ' Eh bien,' replied he ; L.je sais le Gen¬
eral Hoche.1 This officer, much distinguished
for the pacification of La Vendee, had in him
all the elements of success. ' As to Bona--
parte,' said he to Tone, ' set your mind at rest.
He has been my scholar, but he shall never be
my master.' " The fate of this magnificent
expedition is well known. Violent storms
arose, which separated the fleet, only sixteen
sail of which arrived in Bantry Bay, where
they lay for six days within five hundred yards
of the shore, without even attempt-kig to land
the army. It seems the frigate which carried
Hoche was missing ; and Grouchy, the second
in command, refused to incur any responsibili¬
ty. How strange it is that this should be the
self-same officer to whose indecision Napoleon
attributed his defeat at Waterloo f Referring
to Bantry Bay, he afterward told Tone that he
had shed fears fifty times at the recollection of
the opportunity he had lost, and regretted much
APPENDIX. " 197
that he had not taken Bouv«t by the collar, arid
thrown'htm overboard the moment he raised a
difficulty about landing. On the 1st; of Janu-
t, « •
ary, 1797, seven sail madethe island of Ushant,
being all that remained of forty-three sail which
had '^departed* from Brest/ .Thus termihatedj
thTs formidable* operation*"—a result manifestly
attributable to that Plovffience to* whose mer¬
cies England" 6wes so much.",> Hoch-e, to the
absence of whose frigate the failure of the ex¬
pedition-seemk attributable, was tints charae-
terizOd by Napoleon at St;. Helena: "" He was
one~o"f the' first generals that Cvei France pro¬
duced. Hd was brave, intelligent, abounding
in* talent, decisive,'and perseverfrig j'-Be wa^
hltragnnt also. If Hoche "bad landed jn Ire-,
land, he Would haVe 'sticceeded. Hp possessed
aR the' qualities necessary to insure "success.
He w2ts aiccustomed to civil 'war, -and knew
how to conduct himself'mnder 'sucli circunji-:
stances. He had pacified'*L?i YendOer.and was
well adapted' for Ireland. If Hothe had1 land¬
ed, Ireland was losjkto you."
The'next expedition, in all the final arrange¬
ments of which Tone was active, Was that of
the Texel, got up by the to "aid that o£
Ernst/ It was to have been commanded by
193
APPEKDIX,
Daendels, a brave officer, who, on Hoche's
recommendation, appointed Tone to the same
rank in the Dutch which be held in the French
servicev that of adjutant generalv The nayal
force consisted of fifteen gai.t of the line,, ten.
frigates, and many-sloops and transports.. The
land force amounted to thirteen thousand five
hundred men, with three months' pay, and
.spare arms and ammunition. This expedition
never Sailed, owing, says Tone, quietly, to the
"absence of fair winds." May,it hot have-
been to-the presence of* Admiral Duncan, who
lay inopportunely off the mouth of the Texel ?
About this tirne,vHoc,he, scarcely yet. in
prime, died* of consumption. Such was the-
fate of these tiva. memorable expeditions. It
was on the 23d of May, 1798r that a portion of
the Irish peo-ple, irritated, but not disheartened,
burst into premature rebellion. Tbe Egyptian
expedition, under Napoleon, had sailed but a
few days before, thus forestalling the flower of
the French troops and navy. The indefatiga¬
ble Tone instantly rushed to Paris Jtp organize
withministers'another expedition: nor was he
unsuccessful. Th0 proposed plan was to feed
the Irish insurrection with minor detachments-
from different ports, until the main body,
APPE5DIX,
amounting 4o nine thousand men, imdet Gene-*
tai Kitmaine, .himself an, Irishman, could be
dispatched. Had that gigantic armament, un¬
der Napoleon, mailed for Ireland .instead of the
East, and effected a lsfndirig there under cir¬
cumstances so critical, who ©an'calculate upon
the possible consequences? Tone, who had
three consultations with him on Irish affairs,
thus describes the impression made or) him at
the first interview. "He lives ih the Rue
Chantereine,. in the .-greatest simplicity; his
house-is small,-but ueatj ajtid all the furniture
and ornaments in the mbsfc classical taste. He
is about five feet six inches high, slender and
well made, hut stoops.considerably a he looks
at least ten years older than he is, owing to the
great fatigues he ""underwent jn. his immortal
campaign off Italy.. His face is that of a pro¬
found thihkerj.but hears no marks of that great
enthusiasm and unceasing activity by which
he has been so much distinguished. It is ra-'
ther, to my mind, the countenance of a mathe--
matician than of a general; He has a fine eye,
and great firmness about the mouth: he speaks
low and hollow.It is a curious thing, and
characteristic of the -sagacity of Tone, that he
expresses strong suspicion as to Bonaparte's
£09 APPENDIX.
i - ' ' w »
sincerity on Irish subjects, "indeed, he goes
farther still, and hint's that his projects had to
encounter'' his active though*secret discounte¬
nance ! Tone was right, but If was not till
twenty years afterward, en the rpek of St, He¬
lena, that the'reason was diselosedl J "If,V said
Napoleon t© 0?Meara,'u the Irish had sent over
honest men to nje, F would have certainly ■
made an attempt up op, Ireland;.but I had no
confidence either in the hitegri-i} or the tal¬
ents ©f the.Irish leaders that were in France:'
They could' offer no plan, were .divided in
opinion, ahd were- constantly -quarrelling with,
one anotherUpon" Tons, hoWeVer, as we
shall-soon seethe pa-ssed a very-different judg.-
meht. The third projected expedition, under
Kilmaine, tStas frustrated* by the impatience of
General"Ilumbert. This effidot, despite of all-,
arrangement^ with a fey?".frigates, a thousand,
men, re thousand spare muskets, and a thousand
guineas, sailed prematurely, from • Rocheile.
He effected a landing -at Killak^ where, indis¬
creetly lingering for a fortnight, he gained a
•signal victory at Castjebar, and *was. obliged
finally to surrender to an overwhelming fo^cVj
under Lord Cornwallis. This was on tiie^Sth .
of September, If US. The news hM not
APPENDIX.
201
eached Fiance, when, oa the 2Qfh of the;same
month, General Hardy sailed from the Baye de'
Camaret with three thousand: soldiers. Cem-
mpdore Bom part-.had under his command the.
H'oche* .74, eight' "frigates, and a schooner.
The fleet fvas -dispersed by a storm,'and on Ihe
10th of October,- the? Hoche, two- frigates, and
the schopner were signaled by Sir John Bor-
lase Warren in the bay. of' Lough' S willy.
Bompart instantly ordered the frigates and the
schooner to attempt their escape through shal-*
low water, "and heroically'prepared his ship for
action. Ah oat horn the schooner offered Tone
-the almost certainty of an escape, of which he
was vainly implored by his brother officer^ to
avail ' himself. ""No," saicb he, in answer to
^heir-entreaties, "npver shaU .it 'be said that i
fled while'the French were fighting the battles
pf my Country. - "Certaine death, eithe^on the,
deck Or the seaffbld, he- we 13 knew awaited
him! -So it was a soldier's death, he cared
not. For six hours did the galfant Bompart f in
the Koebo, maintain a hopeless contest with
four* sail of the line and a frigate! "At length "
' says Tone, "her masts and rigging were swept
away, her "scuppers flowed with, blood, hPr
wounded filled tjie cockpit, her shattered ribs
202 - .APPENDIX
0' +
yawned -at, every neW .stroke, and let in five
feet water in the holdr, her rtidder was carried
away," and thus barely Abating on the'waters,
a dismantled wreck, idle struck. Honor-to
Bompart—honor to the brave-—enemy though
he be. The fate of Tone was sealed. At a
breakfast given to the Flench officers by Lord
Cavan, he ,wa& recognized. The manner" of.
tile recognition was.thus—I Wish it were oth¬
erwise. While seated at the table with his
brother officers,, an old friend and fellow-stu- <
dent, entering With policemen, said, "Mr.
Tonej 2 am very happy to see you /" He was,
of course, instantly arrested. .He' submitted
without a murmur until they proceeded to place
him in irons, When, flinging ofl" his uniform, -
he indignantly exclaimed, ""No! fetters shall-
n^ver degrade the-severed insignia of the free
nation, I have seryCcL For, the cause which I
have embraced, however,. I feel prouder to -
wear them than if .1 were decorated with the
Star and garter of England.'1 On the 10th of
November, 1792, he was tried in Dublin by
court-martial U Tone - admitted all the facts,
and merely read, an address,'vindicating his
motives, "Under the flag of the French Re¬
public I originally engaged with a view to save
APPENDIX
and.liberie my own country. For that pur*
pose I have encountered the chances of war
among strangers. For that purpose I have re¬
peatedly braved the terrors of the ocean, cover¬
ed, as I knew it to be, with the triumphant
fleets of thpt power which. it Wag my glory and
my duty to oppose. , I have sacrificed my
views-in life; f.bave courted, poverty; 1 have
left a beloved. Wife* unprotected,- and children
whom I- adored, fatherless. After such sacri¬
fices in a Cause which I have always conscien¬
tiously considered as the cause of justice and
freedom, it i$ no great effort at this day to add
the sacrifice of my life.1" After the condemna¬
tion, which he made no effort to avert, he ad-,
ranced one, an.d .only one, request—that he
might die a soldiers death, and u-be*shot by a-
platoon of grenadiers." " I request this indul¬
gence," said he, 11 rathej jn consideration of the
uniform which I wean—the uniform of a chef
-de brigade in the French army—than from any
personal regard.to myself.". He produced hi?
commission as chef tie brigade, and of a letter
of service as 'adjutant general, proving that his.
rank-Was bonafide^ and not merely assumed to
serve a purpose, In point of "fact, be had serv¬
ed ia the army of England, in the Dataviau ar-
104, APPEifpIX,
my^ and in thdt of thq Sambre et Mehse, under
Bonaparte, Desaix,* and KilmainC. ^This re-""
quest was 'refused by Lord Cormvallis, who *
awarded him h traitor's death within eight-and-*'
forty hours'. • Of the Tew -fi'iends 'who had es¬
caped the scaffold; the tnhngle, and the dun--"
geon? could there be found "hone fearless-enough
to recognizef'tlie"fallen? •constitutional enough'
to assert the outraged dignity of the law ? noble
enough to forget.self-interest m thd struggle?
YeS^ there was-one, ancfoftly one : Currah was
still* alive, r Tone was'to 'die on the • 12th-of
November. 'It-was-now the 11th! Durirlg^
the. whole of that day did Currant toil through1
Dublin, seeking Wmong - the Veaffhy jRomah
Cath-olicS the * means ©f retaining"a* bar -td de-»-
monstratC'-the" flagrant illegality, of the trial!.
He spoke but -to the\vinds. "'He could not ob¬
tain a shilling !,i ".He then determined to pro¬
ceed alone, vtrhen» Peter". Burro wes, volunteered
his assistance. On theunoHiing of the day fix¬
ed for the execution; the moment the -Court ef ■
King's Bench opened, the dauntless" advocate
advanced, leading Tone's aged father by-the
hand', who produced .an* affidavit,' that his son
had been brought before a bench of officers
who had sentgaced.him to death. .The se'ene
APPENDIX. 2QS
at that moment passes all description'—the
breathless crowd,, the heart-broken oLd man,
the pure and .venerable judge, and, above all,
the voluntary and unrivaled advocate, the real
friend—misfortune's friend—who, while all
others held afcof, alone stood forward to hold
the aegis of the law between injustice and its
victim: to be appreciated, it must have been
seen.
" I do not pretend," began Curran, " that
Mr. Tone is not guilty of the charge oi" which
he is accused. I presume the officers were
honorable men. But it is stated in this affida-^
'vit, as a solemn fact, that Mr. Tone had no
commission under his majesty,„and therefore
no court-martial could have cognizance of any
crime imputed to him while the Court of
King's. Bench sat jn the capacity'of the great
criminal court of the land. In times when war
was ragiug, when man was opposed to man in
the field, courts-martail might be endured ; but
every law authority is with me, while I stand
upon the sacred and immutable principle of the
Constitution, that martail law and civil law are
incompatible, and that the former must se ise
with the existence of the latter. Tim it not,
however, the time for arguing this uicin ntous
206 APPENDIX.
question. My client must appear in this c-ourt.
He is cast for death this very day. He may
be ordered for execution while I address you.
I call on this court to support the law, and
move for a writ of Habeas Corpus, to be direc¬
ted to the provost marshal of the barracks and
Major Sandys, to bring up the body of Tone."
Chief Justice. " Have- a writ instantly pre¬
pared."
Curran. "My client may die while the
writ is preparing."
Chief Justice. "Mr. Sheriff, proceed to the
barracks, and acquaint the provost marshal that
a writ is" preparing to suspend Mr. Tone's
execution, and see that he be not executed."
In a short time, the sheriff, having returned,
thus addressed the court:
" My lord, I have been to the barracks in
pursuance of your order. The provost marshal
says he must obey Major Sandys. Major San¬
dys says he must obey Lord Cornwallis."
At this time Mr. Curran announced the re¬
turn of Tone's Father with a message that
General Craig refused to obey the writ oi Ha¬
beas Corpus.
Chief Justice. "Mi. Sheriff,'take the body
of Tone into custody. Take the provost mar-
APPEHDIX fio?7
glial and Major Sandys iflto custody, and show
the order of the court to General'Craig.™ '
It was now universally believed that the
military authorities, who had thus presumed to
trifle with the powers of the King's Bench,,
would have Tone executed on the instant-
Lord Kilwarden, a great constitutional judge,
^tvas very much affected. " His agitation,"
said Outran, " was magnificent." It soon trans¬
pired, however, that, Tone, indignant at the
menaced degradation of his death, had, with a
small penknife which he had managed to coa¬
xal," inflicted such a wound on his throat that
he had little to fear from this world's jurisdic¬
tion- The chief justice, however,"as a matter
of precaution., ordered a writ to issue, suspend¬
ing the Execution. It is said, on the surgeori
expressing an opinion that, as" the carotid arte¬
ry had' escaped, the wound was not necessarily
fatal, Tone faintly muttered, "I am sorry>
then, to find that I have been sp bad an anato¬
mist." He survived, however, in silent ago¬
ny, for seven days, when the same surgeon*
seeing he was sinking, whispered to an atten¬
dant, "You must keep him as quiet as possible.
If he speaks he dies." "I thank you, sir,"
said Tone, who had overheard him; " you
2 OS
APPENDIX.
could not give me more welcome news. What
should I wish to live for—" and expired.
Thus perished on his " bloody pallet," in a
loathsome dungeon, and by his own hand, the
youthful apostle of Irish independence."
" Tone was earnest, disinterested, single-
minded. Ilis patriotism did not evaporate in
words. He was essentially the man of action—r-
an enthusiast, but a practical one. No person¬
al motive seems fairly attributable„to him. If
he was a,suppliant, it was always for his coun¬
try—never for himself. If he urged others to
enterprise, he never shrank from a participa¬
tion in the danger. Opposing power, he never
cringed to. popularity, nor substituted a mob for
the monarch he rejected. For one sole object,
which he mistakenly believed to be his .coun¬
try's good—in exile, in.-poverty, in "privations
of every kind—to the last he persevered, sacri¬
ficing all that makes life dear, and daring and
enduring all that makes death terrible."
" It may not be out of place here to, state
that the regard in which Tone was held by the
Directory was extended to his family after
his death, II is sons were educated at the pub¬
lic expense, and owed much to .the active be¬
nevolence of Talleyrand. Lucien Bonaparte,
Appendix. m
as president of the Council of Five Hundred,
thus winds up the beautiful speech which lie
addressed to them on the subject: ' Represen¬
tatives of the people ! the widow, the children
of Tone are before you. The law of the 14th
Fructidor only allows them a pension of 300
francs*. But, in that very law, the case of emi¬
nent services, rendered in the cause of liberty,
is foreseen. The families of heroes are then,
to be relieved by a special decree of this House."
lelaitn this special decree.' The motion was
followed by the appointment of a comrpittee,*
of which Joseph Bonaparte was a member.
His nomination was a guarantee to the family
that their interests were'.safe ; a man of kind¬
lier nature never perhaps existed.
" This little sketch would scarcely be com¬
plete without the graphic account which
Tone's admirable widow-gives of her* first in¬
terview with Napoleon. - He was on his return'
from the hunt in the forest of St. Germain's,
and was changing horses, when she presented
a book and memorial to him : " He. handed the
book to his ecuyer, and opened the paper.
When he began to read,-he said, c Tone I re¬
member well.' He read it all through, arid
two or three times stopped, looked at me, and
21a appendix.
bewed, hi reading it. When he had finished, he
sard, to me, 'Now speak to me of yourself,' I
hesitated, for I was not prepared for that ques-
tipn, and took small interest in the subject. He
proceeded: ' Have you a pension ?' I said I
had. ' Is it sufficient ? Do you want any e^
traordinary succor ?' By this time J, had, re¬
covered- myself, and said that his majesty's
goocfness left me no personal want; that all
my cares, all. pay interest-in life were centered
in my child, whom I now gave up to his majes-5
ty's service. He answered, i Be tranquil; then,
on his account; be perfectly tranquil, -then,
concerning him.' I perceived a .little half-
smile when I said x my child' (won enfant.) I
should have sajd ' my son I knew it but for¬
got. He had stopped so Icing that a crowd,, had
gathered,and were crushing on, crying, ' Vive
VEmpereur /' He ordered two Napoleons a
piece to be given to some old women, and wo¬
men with'children, and drove on. On going,
he nodded to. me two or three times wjth affec¬
tionate'familiarity, saying, •' Yotre enfant sera
hien naturalise,* laying ji playful emphasis on
the word ' enfant /" Napoleon kept his word.
He doubled the pension of Mrs. -Tone, raising
it to 24.00. francs during her life ; appointed her
APPENM3L 8ll
son to be a scholar of the government, and or¬
dered her expenses, on placing him at the mil¬
itary school, to be repaid.- In the twenty-se¬
cond year of his age, Tone's son was appoint*
ed a cornet in the 8th Chasseurs. He served
with distinction from January, 1813, to July,
1815, when he resigned the service. At the
memorable battle of Leipsic he received six
lance wounds, and was promoted to a lieuten¬
ancy on the • staff, appointed an aid-de-camp,
and made a member -of the legion of hdnor.
He died very young, an officer in the army of
the United States.
" The application for a writ of Habeas Cor¬
pus made by Tone's counsel may, at first view,
appear to have been superfluous. But it was.
not so. The fatal act of the prisoner had not
transpired .when the 'motion was made, and
there was a certainty that the execution would
have taken place- on the 12th- of November.
To obviate this,«the motion—of the ultimate
success of which there could be little doubts-
was necessary. The result of a trial by jury
must inevitably have been .the same as that
by court-martial. So far from denying his-
guilt, "Tone- denied it to be- guilt, and glo¬
ried in it. What, indeed could. have been
212 APPENDIX,
done for a man who volunteered such a
boast as this: " I wish to spare* the court all
useless trouble. The charge against me, I
presume, is, that I have been found in arms
against the soldiers of the king in my natiye
country. I admit the accusation in its most
extended sense. From my earliest youth' I
have regarded the connection between England
and Ireland as the curse of the Irish nation, and
felt convinced that, while 'it lasted, this coun¬
try could-never be free- or happy. As to that
connection, therefore, I repeat it—all that has
been imputed to me—words^ Writings, arid ac-"
tiohs—I here deliberately avow. ■ -I have spo¬
ken and acted with reflection," and gn princi¬
ple, and am ready to meet the consequences.
Whatever be the sentence of the court, I am
prepared for it. Its members will surely dis¬
charge their duty—J shall take care not to be
wanting in-mine." Acquittal, therefore, before
any tribunal, was' quite out ef the question.
Mr. Carroll's objeet was solely to gain time.
Delay must necessarily have attended a trial at
law, and opportunity would thus have been
afforded for foreign interference. Indeed, it
has since transpired that the chiefs, both of the
French and Batavian Republics, had solemnly
APPENDIX.
2IS
assured Mrs, Tone that they would instantly
claim her husband; that the English officers
whom they had prisoners should be held as
hostages for his "safety; and if they had none
of the same rank, the difference should be made
iip in numbers. In*similar circumstances Na¬
poleon claimed Napper Tandy; the demand
was acquiesced in, and Tandy was exchanged.5*
THE fRISH FOREMAN OF '98.
We copy the following sketches, to show the
state of feeling in Irelapd, during the State
Trials of '98.
9Guilty! my Lord."
The foreman of the jury trembled as he pro¬
nounced the verdict; the grave lawyers sud¬
denly shifted on their seats and looked, silently
down; a quick shivering ran through the vast
mass of people, and then was unheard in their
piercing yells of rage"; all in that court-room
were agitated but the judge and the criminal.
10
ttt APPEJSDIX.
The judge took another pinch of snuff, and
settled' in his seat with a heavy frown upon the
prisoner. He glanced almost exulting!y at the
maddened mass around him,, and then turned
and defied,the judge with his eye. ..
The Foreman trembled in the tumult, for he
had heard of Irish revenge, trampling upon Bri¬
tish gold and piercing through British steel.
As he looked around he saw a spirit burning in
a thousaud eyes, which had not appeared to
him in warning- at the hour when a heavy
purse was dropped into his hands. And he
trembled again, for he saw that more of those
wrathful eyes were fastened upon him than
upon, the prisoner at the bar.
He heard the angry cry for sijence, the sen¬
tence of-death and the noisy breaking up of
the court, all as a fajnt and distant sound. He
mechanically rose to depart, but the sheriff m
surprise touched his shouldejf.
li Will you not have a-guard to your house r'!
{cYes!" cried the Foreman, awaking, "I
must have'a guard!"
. He hurried away, because he did not wish
to meet the sheriff's eye.
Late in the second night after the trial, a
squadron of dragoons clattered up to the hotel
MFfc Of EBtMETf. 515
in King street, and then,stopped. A man in¬
stantly left the building and mofinted a spare
•horse in the very middle of the .troop. Not a
•word was spoken ; all knew their'business, and,
swept rapidly forward at -a single* word from
their officer. And no one cared to speak.
Two fiours' quick riding brought them -into
"the centre of a forest, whoso huge black trees shut
out the feeble light of a few dim stars, which
had "hitherto shown them their course.' This
melancholy darkness fell heavily upon the su*
perstitious tebfings of the dragoons, and togeth-
erVvith. a' mysterious distant roaring through
the still air, depressed etfen the lighter spirit of
tire officer. Almost unconsciously, and certain¬
ly'without meaning it, he dropped behind and
whispered to the Foreman.
" How awful this Sudden wind sounds among
the trees-!"
" That is na wind or breeze that you hear,"
said the Foreman briefly.^ "It is the dashing
of waves under the cliff of Creel au Diugh.
mat's that!"
* A narrow stream of fire, shooting upward in
•swift-sparkles,, rati into the road directly beneath
their horses' hoofs. A Scattered mass of fire¬
works instantly exploded. Rockets ruslied up
218
APPENDIX
from their midst, blazing wheels cast forth, a
whirling shower of sparky while fiery serpents
hissed and leaped along the ground. -Stricken
with a sudden terror, the horses became un¬
manageable and broke from their ranks. .
score of dark, half-naked men was seen glanc¬
ing about in the scattered troop. When order
was restored, tire Foreman's horse alone was
found riderless. The officer-instantly gave the
order to pursue. He might have .spared him¬
self the trouble..
The Foreman heard tire loud command, but
made no struggle for release from his captors.
A strong grasp was upon each arm, and kept
its remorseless .hold, though the prisoner
screamed^ with torture as he dragged through
briets and thorns in that headlong race. And
even when the sound uf pursuit died-.away.be¬
hind them, they did not slacken their step^?" for
their revenge was tireless, and every moment'
increased the sound of the waves dashing*, un¬
der the cliff of Creel au Duigh. No pause .un*
til an abyss yawned beneath their feet* and the
Foreman looked down upon the black waters
of the sea.
They tossed him down upon the rough rock,
and he did not attempt t® rise. The band
APPENDIX.
217
stood at a little distance from him. Then one
stepped out from their number, and in a calm,
determined voice, told the Foreman * why he
must die.
You have taken the English gold and your
hand shall rot in the .sea. You have spokeri-
the'perjured word, and you shall be strangled
till your black tongue sticks out of y'our month.
To-niorrow, a true Irishman goes to his doom,
and,you shall treep before him tike a hound as
you are. His body cannot lie in holy ground,
and your carcase shall be picked by the birds
of. the* air, until it drops and is eaten by the
crawling crab. Look down .the cliff of Creel au
Dui'gh. The waters below are not as black
and measureless as "the iniquity of your heart.
You cannot wish to prepare for death. You
must die now."
The Foreman was not a coward. He had
trembled in the. court when he was crushed
down by tlie- revengeful looks of a thousand,
m'en, but now- that death stood visibly before
hi,m, he only rose and said with firmness,—
" Let-me die quick and easily."
" No !" shouted the other savagely,"" no? you
shall not 1 „ Yoirshalfdie hard, and the harder
because you vrill know first what is the death
SIB APPENDIX.
we have devised for you. We shall not hang
you or let you drop into the sea. Either would
be too merciful, and we shall do both. Do you
see that long spar ? There are two cords at-
this end. One of them shall be knotted around
your neck: the second is fastened to the other
end, and hangs loosely along the whole length
of the stick* -Your hands shall be- tied behind
t
your back, you shall be haltered and thrust
out with the spar. If you would lengthen
your life, cling to the loose rope with your legs
as long as -the devil givds you. strength. 'Da
so, and prolong your death,. Now tie him,
noose him", cross Ids feet upon the rope, thrust
the spar out and may God not have mercy on
his-soul."
They did eo and' sat down on the crag. A
light wind arose and swung the 'Foreman- ta
and fro iij the * darkness : thel cords creaked
with their horrid* weight, and the mad waves
beneath bounded up as if yearning for the
flanging wretch. They sate still and watched,
him.
Por an hour no one-dared to speak. Then
one whispered to'his fellow :
* "Did yod see his-limbs sliakfc tlien as if he
LIFE-OF EMMETT. Sl»
had the fever ! How still he is,—I thought he
would beg. But he dies game!"
• "Silence!" cried their chief. ' ^He dies like
a traitor
•As he spoke, the feet nervously unclasped
and the Foreman swung down.
"Come, boys/' said the chief, after another
interval of silence, " now let £19 go."
THE IRISHMAN'S QEVEHGE.
During-the autumrt of the year 1798, half the
county of Wexford was in a state of insurrec¬
tion. This partial revolt, however, led to no
important results; the insurgents were defeat¬
ed and compelled* once more to submit to the
iron rod of the English* government." To re¬
strain the populace, to ferret out and inflict
summary justice ©n the guilty, numerous de¬
tachments of soldiers _Tvere sent, who overran
the whole country. One-of these detachments
22a LIFE pF EMJIETT.
had established itself for several days on the
little island of the Virgin/when one morning
t}ie commanding officer received a visit -from
one of his sergeants-.
"Well, Dennis," he enquired, -H what's the
news ?"
"They have brought in Patrick O'Darcy,"
replied the sergeant; "I have ordered out a
platoon, .and I now come to receive your hon¬
or's orders to shoot the prisoner."
" Have we a right to do so ?" demanded the
officer.
" With .your honour's* permission, I believe
it is always lawful to rid ourselves of a febef
and a papist. Besides, he spent all last night
away from his* house,".which is a sufficient
crime of itself."
, " Is it known where he wenj, and what he
has been dojng during the night,?"
" I have heard it"said that he went to^ee his
brother the sailor, who lately arrived at. Wex-"
ford; but thffi story js not clearly proven^ and-
this O'Darcy does not bear too good a reputa¬
tion. 'Shall f despatch him ?"
" By my faith, Dennis," replied the ofhcer^
" since he is*i\ow in our hands we can't" go
AfPEWffiX 221
wrong, I thirikr in sending the fellow out of the
world/'
The sergeant instantly withdrew.
Left alone, €he officer; reflecting on what had
passed, quickly repented of having so lightly
condemned to death a mail who was probably
innocent. Springing up,' he .hastened to stop'
the execution, but had not taken twenty steps
befoje he heard a discharge Gf musketry. "The
•next moment he foflrid "himself 411 the prese'nce
of the inanimate porpse-of his victim. -He was
a young man of great size and' of q handsome
and interesting appearance; his clothes, were
such, as are worn by • the poor oTasseS in Ire-
band. After viewing him for ran instant the
officer retired'racked with remorse.*
Among tlie spectators of this frightYut scene
was the brother of Patrick O'Darcy. The ex¬
ecution over,' he- hastened to the dwelling of
the deceased's* widow, uttering words of . ven¬
geance .apmnst the murderers. • He had scarce-*
ly entered, when some one knocked.
u It is the priest," cried one of the children
who ran to open the door.
'Walking into the* cettage, the man of Gfod.
found theffirother.ef Patrick O'Darcy engaged,
cleaning an old pistol; the fwd eldest sons
S22 APPENDIX.
of the murdered man were melting lead "to run
into bails. As for the poor widow she sat on a
high stool near' the fire, regarding with -dry-
eyes and a vacant stare the preparations gt>ing
on arpund her.:
'f Is it "an assassination you intend to com¬
mit?" said the priest with severity,, addressing
himself to the brother of Patrick O'Darcy.
" They have kill'ed my brother in cold blood,
my innocent brother,'1' replied the sailor, still*
contiilying to polish the rusty weapon which
he held in his hand.
" What.!" said the priest, " thoughts of re-*
venge in the heart of U Christian ! Does not.
God forbid the -shedding of blood ? Leave to
Him the punishment -of the guilty": terrible re¬
morse in this life, etertfal suffering-in the other,
will do justice to the crimes committed here
below."
He qontiiiued to speak for a long, time in
this tone. The sailor sometimes nodded his
head ; sometimes hazarded a; brief observation.
At last the words of the priest seemed to make
an impression' upon him; he interrupted the
gbod man, reflected a moment and then said:
" I believe, in-fact, you are right) it is his con¬
science-alone-which^ shall'avenge me. I pro-
APPENDIX- 22i
mise you tliat 1 will not raise', a band againsf
him."
• O n't ho eyening of the same day, while the
pfficer was in his chamber reflecting bitterly
upon the event of the morning, the sergeant
rushed in, his face pale, as death, and his hair
flowing in disorder. Be handed a letter with
a *black seal, containing simply these.words :* *
" Patrick O^Darcy died October ls£, 1798.
*" Captain O' G.nnnell will die October 1st,
1799. Twelve^mOnths !n
"Who gave you this letter?" demanded the
ojhcer/
'.'Patrick O'Darcy," replied the sergeant, with
3 trembling voice.
"Patrick O'Darcy is dead, yew fool."
" I assisted at his execution, and I was pre¬
sent • when his corjwse was thrown into the
lake,'"'replied the sergeant; " but if the \yords
I now pronounce we're the last which sheuldr
ever issue from my mouth, 1 would swear that
it-was he himself who brought that letter."
OiGuunell was not "superstitious-; yet, this
mysterious letter inspired inrn with Some un¬
easiness, but *it soon Vanished ; -five.days after¬
ward he thought no more of the matter.1 "The
first of November found him in Dublin, when
the hostess Cf the house at which he ptjt up
brought him a letter' which- she said had been
left for him- by an Irishman of. uncommon
height Tfos letter was precisely like the firsts
excepting-thdh tfiepinmber of months was^ re¬
duced to eleven....O'Gurmell, *011.reading this'
second "billet, felt.hm fefos revive; • his retnorse
returned, more jroiginyjt - than ever, and. the re¬
proaches of bis ghilfy ponscinnce began.to per¬
suade him that there was something, supernatu¬
ral in this strange.oCetircenee. He had inform¬
ed no'one of hig journey to Dublin, where he
had arrived only the evening' before: what
Iwiijg foeing, then, pouhl have divined his in¬
tentions and have discovered him so soon ?. . 4.
vague biff, unceasing-restlessness preyed "upon,
him-—appetite and sleep bath abandoned him.
He str.ove to drown his sufferings by plunging
into the whirlpool of pleasure, but nothing
could relieve his gloomy .thoughts, the moral
disease nuder which he fo-lt -himself foiling fol¬
lowed-him. every- where.
The first of" D«cemberv found hint at the ta¬
ble, surrounded by numerous friends, and on
tha point of drinking a, toast, when a servant
handed hjiji a letter Rearing a black seal. He
tamed pale OQ receiving it, had foil back in his
chair ■without uttering a word f pretending 'sud¬
den .indisposition, he soon, left the. -apartment-.
•Next day he-quitted Dublin, to-go, be sai&J on
■a hunting excursion among the mountains of
Wicktow j a single servan t*acgompanied him.
It was no .idea of pleasure orafnusement that
-brought O'Gunnell among the mountains :»he
began to-consider-eyfery kind-of happiness or
joy as a dream, @f the past;,all that hp ^coutd
hope for -was partial relief^ momentary fofget-
fulness of his ills, and he jsopght it in bodily
fatigue, and the activity of a country lifev . But
the recollection of fhe" island .-of _ the Virgin
never forsook him f look which way,he would,
a bloody phantom was incessantly by hisrside.
Thus passed the*month of December.
-*One day, -Q'Gunnell, returnkig-f^om a long
mountain excursion, passed through a narrow
path which followed the course of a "rivulet.
At a tijrn in*the road, he-suddenly perceived a-
man, whc^ standing- on a little "knoll, pointed
tyith Ids hand towards «a huge rock neSir which
he had to pass,. •O'Gunneli attentively scruti¬
nized this singular figureq. it. was. O'Darcy!
His hair stood erect, his- bl&od yurdled in his
veins,, his hand mechanically grasped a pistol
Which he constantly carried, and he fired. -A
«2& APPENDIX,
smile o? derision gleamed-athwart the visage of
ODarcy, whcr, without 'moving, continued to
point at the roek. In a few moments he dis¬
appeared; as if by enchantment. -Approaching
the -spot designated; CTGhmnell found a letters—
it announced- that he had but nine months to
live.
-'After this apparitionK;"0'-Gunnell-Tio Jonger
doubted that there-was Something supernatural
in ♦ his mysterious adventurehis fears, his
sufferings redoubled, and it was with a deadly
terror that be saw the fatal day approach which
should bring him a" new fetter.
The day .at length arrived, hut nothing ex¬
traordinary-happened to Otiurfriell, and night
approached without -his* having received any
letter; this excited irr his breast a hope that
the charm was broken. Filled with joy, -he
returned, towards his dwelling, when, wishing
to.cross.a small 1-qn.eiy bridge, -he*met a man
who seemed - desirous to dispute tjie passage.
Face to face he recognized himgs a poor Cath¬
olic gentleman, whose house he had burnt du¬
ring his last* expedition against- the insurrec¬
tionists in Wexford. O'Gunnell requested him,
to make- waybut the other, without budging,
Appendix, w
stared him in the face-, and said^ " I have wait¬
ed for yon."
"Yon~vvait for me !" replied O'G-unBell, « I.
have nothing to do with rebels and papists.^'
•"Scoundrel!"' cried the old gentleman,
*£{ have a care what" yeu say,"
The bl5od ru-sh'ed to*0'GunnelPs face.
" No- man ever insulted me with impunity,"
he exclaimed, " choose one of these two pistols
and defend yourselft"
."^11 that once formed my happiness, has
been ravished from me, ravished' by you, and
although death seems to. me-preferable to the
existence "I now lead", I will not "profit by'the
advantage I have over you- oil this occasion.
The hand of an- assassin always trembles/'
" Does, my hand tremble !" shouted. "Q'.Gun-
nell,, -in a paroxysm of rage.
The old man smiled disdainfully,-drew, a
paper from.his bosom, and presented it to
O'Gurmelh
See What I have been eharged- to convey
to you,".said he with^ifFected calmness.
•"•Ha! does* your band tremble now ?"
O'Gunnell had hardly taken the paper, when
his knees trembled- and he fainted." When, he
recovered his consciousness, the old gentlemaa
ts»
had disappekred, but he saw at- some distance
the sombre figure of O'Darcy gazing fixedly
upon hihi.
. ft would take too much time to -narrate all
the* attempts-O'Guumell made to escape- from
his persecutory and discard the forebodings
which .incessantly beset hkm. - He travelled
-Over nearly -all England, -dying from ©ne place
{a another, without being able to, evade".those
fatal letters which reached him regularly en the
first of e very .month, in, spite pf- all the care-he-
took to conceal himself from every eye*
In this'extremity, he resolved to expatriate
himstflf and-go over fa Amsterdam, on a visit
to a relative who many-years'previous had es¬
tablish rod-a commercial house m that city. 'Ax*
cordingty, ho embarked on a v ship bound for
Rotterdam, and when the shores, of England,
disappeared from vieiv, it seemed as though a
great weight had been removed from his heart,
During the night, the sea roughened, and soon
a violent .storm having arisen*, the vessel Wasin
peril. Q'GwhneH hastened on deck, and- watch¬
ed the sailors lowering, tfie ffiaimail,. when the
lightning flashed vividly, afnd he saw among
them O'Darcy himself, who flung a letter .seal¬
ed with black at his feet, and was instantly
APPENPIX.
229
shrouded in'darkness. It js impossible-to de¬
scribe the anguish which the unhappy man ex¬
perienced* at this sight. He felt that it'was all
oyer with him, henceforth not a hope remain¬
ed ; his heart broke with grief and despair.
When he readied the residence of his relative,
so much .-was he changed they could hardly
rgcoguize him. A livid pallor overspread his
countenance, -a burning .fever consumed him y.
instead of the gay norhpanioiifthe joyous guest'
whom fhey-had ©nee known, they found a man
prematurely eld, sad, morose; seldom speak¬
ing, and never smilingr His- relative,, pained
as much as astonished at this transformation,
often questioned O'Gunnell •. but he always
evaded a "reply, and qiany .w-teks passed before
he inade the slightest disclosure.
At length^one.d.ay,-as they promenaded to¬
gether along the canal which traverses the Hee-
fen-Cxratt, one of the principal -streets hi Am¬
sterdam,, the merchant urged him more earnest¬
ly -than usual to reveal tire-cause of his condi¬
tion. O'Gannell. piaintained silence. "-If it
is remorse that- tortures. you,"_gaid his^ relative,,
"you had better geek the consolation of reli¬
gion."
*sft APPE-tTMX
t
""^.laslv said O'Gunnell, with bitterness, " I
cannot pr&y. ' That consolation is denied me.
Lhave fm.t a day longer to live -on. earthyand |
cart-not prayv ,My persecutor follows me step
by step: this e\seaing, at five o'elpek, I shall
be aveorpse, and yet I cannot*pray! Behold
him,r' even now!'.'/he suddenly ejtdpinaed,
trembling in every limb, and ^parting 'with his
finger at a tall ydling man 'Who marched glow-
Fy'alofeig the other side of the canaF-
/They Were obliged to carry CfGiasneli home
to. the house of his-relative; he*was- so weak
that Ire could suStftiin himself np longer.^ The
mferchayt, persuaded that-his malady" Was4pure-
ly imaginary, -had -a*clod?; placed ih ftoht of the
bed, having previotisly'put the- -hands--forward
half an hour. ' In proportion as the fatal mo*
merit drew near, the state "of the disease* grew
worse; but when the clock Lad s'truck fivS, the-
unfortunate man became somewhat better,, an <£
they be^an to conceive hopes of" his recovery.
At this critical time/the sound of fctotsteps wag-
heard in the- adjoihing apartment, the door was*
thrust rudely open, and ^a young man-entered
whom they ffca'dil.y- recognised as an Irishman,
by his dress. O'Gunnell- raised himself in a
APP^DHL 5$ |
siltting posture, thjew a rapid glance yjpon tl^§
intruder, and fell back dead in h*is bed.
,It toas the bmther of -Patrick O1 Darcv.
■* " *"
SUBSTANCE
£)9A ,
THOMAS ADDIS EMMETT'S ESAMTNATIoX *
Before the'Secret Committee of tfie Hqusc of
- Lords $ August'li), 1798.
# Committee.- Were you.an United Irishman?*
Emmett. !&fy lords, I one, y
m Com.t Were you a- member .of* the execu¬
tive ? " •' * A
' Emmett: .1 was of Jhe executive .frtajt the1
month. of-hmpary to the month! of May, 1797,
and afterwards from December, 1797, till I was
arrested. .
[I was then asked as to the military organi¬
zation, which I detailodv They them asked
232
APPENDIX.
when the feturns included fire rfrms and am-<
munition.]
Emmett- After thennmrreetionand indem¬
nity acts had been passed, when the people
were led to think on resistance, and after 4000
persons hadd>e'en driven_irom the .county of
Armagh by the Orangemen.
Com. Was not the name of Orangeman*
used to terrify the people into the United-
system?
- Emmett. I,do not know what groundless
fears "may* have been propagated by ignorant
peogfe; but I am-sure no ubfair advantage was
taken by the executive. The Orange princi¬
ples we're fairly discussed, as far as-they were
known, and we always found, that wherever it
Was attempted to establish a lodge, the United,
Irish iacreasedwery much.
Lofrl Ell ton. Why, where was it'jendeavor-
ed to* introduce them, except in the north, and
the c?ity of Dublin ?
Emnibtt. -My. lord, I-can't, tell yon all the
places in which it was. endeavored, bujt I will
name one, in the county of Roscommon,
where I am told At made many United Irish¬
men.
APPENDJX.
283
Lord Dillon. Well, -that, was but ".very late¬
ly, and I endeavored to resist it..
Cqm. When .wqre 4he first communica¬
tions with Fiance r1
MmmetL Theffirst I heard o.f were after
„the, inserrectiong and indemnity acts had been
carried ; the first I knew of was *after the
French fieet had leftJBpwtry Bay,, and after it
was manifest the effort for reform-*would,not;
succeed^ and permit me to add, on my*path,dt
was my- intention to ffropose to, and from con¬
versations. I had with some, of tfie executive
directory, I ana sure it would ft&ve^ been carried
there, that if there had beer£ any reasonable
hope of referm.b'eing adopted, to sendjono more
messenger to France, and.her-shonld have told
them fhe difference between the people-and
Jhe government was adjusted, and'not to at¬
tempt a second invasion.
[They then took me into-detail through Jh©
whohf of the negotiations and message-rotated
that the demand on our part \fras from five to
t6n thousand men, and" forty thousand stand of
. arms, by the first agent j that the instructions
to the second agent differed b*y requesting more
arms in consequence of the disarming of the
north, which had intervened, and that the
234 APPENDIX.
French had"'promised" we"sho,u'ld" be at perfect
liberty to eheoserour own form of government.
It was expressly stipulated with them that they
should conduct themselves sd.J}
Lord Chancellor* As they tlid in "Holland ?
^EfUmett. As Rochahibgau -did in America,
my" lords.
Thefy then entered on* the subject <oj the ' se-
'ptiration.* •
Lord-Chancellor. How fs it possible, Air.
Emnibft, just look on the niap, and tell me
how you Can suppose that Ireland*could exist
independent'of Englhpd or Pranee ?'
Emmet L - My_loyds; if I had" any doubt on
•that subject, I should ftever have attempted to
e'ifect a separation, but I have 'given if as mueh
consideration a£" my faculties would permit,
and I hafv,e hot a' shadow of doilbt, that if Ire¬
land was once independent, she^ might defy
the'Vombhied efforts-of France and England.
Archbishop oj Cashel. My God! her trade
would be destroyed!
EinmetU Pardon m5", mv lord,* her trade
would be infinitely increased: 150 years ago,
'when Irelatid contained not*more than one mill¬
ion and an half of men, and America wds 110-
t ing, the connexion might belaid to be ne-
APPEKDU.
£38
cessary tQ Ireland; but noytbat she contains
jQve millions, that America is the best market
in the world, and Ireland the best situated,
country in Europe to trade with that' market,
she has .outgrown the connexion.
Lord Chancellor. 3Tes, I remember talk¬
ing to. a .gentleman of your acquaintance, and
I believe one of your body and way of'think¬
ing, »who told me that Ireland had nothing to
complain of from'England; Mt that she was
strong eiiodgh to §et up for herSelt.
' 'Emm eft. I heg, nty-lojrct^; that may not he
considered a& my "opihionr I-think. Ireltfnd
has a, great many' things to eomplaih of against
England;" I-anf sur'd "she is strong- enough to
set up for herself; &trd giye me leave to tell you,
my lords, that-if the government of this oodrr*
try be not regulated so as that the Tsonffbl may
he wholly Irish, and that th» commercial ar¬
rangements* between the t\va countries* be
not put 011 the foofing of perfect equality, the
connexion cannot last.
Lor'd Chancellor: 'What wpukhyou do for
coals ?
Emmeit. >■ fn every revolution, and in every
war, the people must submit to some priva¬
tions; but I must observe to your lordshisp,
286
APPENDIX.
that there is a reciprocity between the buyer
'afid seller, and that- England wauld suffer as
much as Ireland, if we did not buy her Coals.
However; I wilt grant our fhel would. become
dearer for*a time 5 buy by paying a higher
price we pould have a fall sufficient abundance
from our own *cpal rrjines, and from bogs, by
means o-f out .canals. --
Archbishop of Cashel. Why, twelve frig¬
ates w.©utd s'top' up all our ports."
Emmett. My lord, you must ffave taken a
very imperfect survey off the.'ports onvthe wes¬
tern coasts of this kingdom,* if you ^suppose
that twelyp frigates would block them up;
and I must observe to you, that if Ireland was
for three months separated from England, -the
laffpr would pease to be such, a formidable na-
• * * '
val power*-
Lord Chancellor.' Well, I cannot conceive
the separation could last twelve hours.
Emmett. T declare to God, I think that if
Ireland were separated from England, she
wpuld be- the happiest spot on the face of the
globe,
[At which they all,seemed astonished.]
Lord Chancellor. But how could you rely
JH>PEMS<. 23.7
* V •* ^ .
on- France Jkftt sVfe would keep her promise of
not interfering with y^qr government^
_ jfyivtett. _ My reliance, my lords, wqiqmore
Irisji power", than*on Freiicl\ promises',' for
X jvas convinced, that thoughshe<€otjldi;!j0t easi¬
ly sejt Up th<# standard liyrself, yet,.w*heii it was
**4 & '*1 III * *
onceTraisear a powerful ^rra^woyld flock
to it. nviwcli, organized under its n\yn ckicers,
j* T * t *
-would hd-V-^no reas'on to clread 100,0QO F.iGij,ch-
r;nen, atict we only ^tipulajpd forjjftenlli part
of that nyinber. # K "*> * *
hord,Kilw(£rdeii. . You seem averse to in-
^ 4 % * *S -
Surrectioh; I suppose it was because yoy.
tjiougfltf it impolitic,,? ' ,
* *Emmett. „ Unquestionably: for if I imagin¬
ed an insurrection fcould have succepdqi with-
great,wastn^of Jblood and time",.I^Iioold
have preferred i£ to iiffeSsion, as it would not
;Jjaye exposed, u^ to the chance of cAiUiiwiulions
beingTequired by a foreign force; but»uS.X,did.
not thin* so, and as I wa§ ♦certain yin invasic n
would succeed 'spe -dilj^and wklioyl^much
struggle, J preferred it even .at' the ^ haaard of
that lnconvenience^whicii w^ took every'pu ns
|o prevent, 4 T
Lord jJillon, J\li* Emmett, ycm have stat¬
ed the views otthe executive to be<very3ibef-«
ll
2.33 APPENDIX
al and very enlightened, and I ^lieve y crura
were so; but let me aslt. you, whether it was
not intended to cut off (in the beginning of the
contest) the leaders of the opposition* party -by
a summary mode, such as "assassination : my
reason for asking you is, John Sheared procla¬
mation,-the most terrible paper that ever .ap¬
peared ia'any country: it says, that "many of
your tyrants have bled, and others must
bleed,," &c.
Emmett. My lords, as to Mr. Sheare's pro¬
clamation, he was not of-the executive when
I was.
Lord Chancellor. He was of the new exe¬
cutive.
Emmett. I do not know he was-of any exe*
cutive, except from what your lordship says—
but I- believe he was joined with some others
in framing a particular plan of insurrection for
Dublin and its neighborhood—neither do I
know what value he annexed to those words
in his proclamation—but I can answer, that
while I was of the executive, there was no
such design," but the contrary—for we conceiv¬
ed when one of you lost your live?, we lost an
hostage. Our intention was to seize yon all,
and keep you as hostages for the conduct of
England and" after the revolution was over,
if you cpuld not live under the new govern¬
ment, to send }?ou out of "the country. I will
add one thing more, which, though it is not an
answer to your question, you may have a curi¬
osity to hear.» In such a struggle-,' it- was na¬
tural to expect confiscations ,* our intention
was, that every wife who "had not instigated
her husband to resistance, should ~be provided
for out of the property, notwithstanding con¬
fiscations ; arid-every child wh© was too young
to be his own master, or? form.his own opinion,
was to hav£ a child's portion. Your lordships
"vvill now judge .how far-we .intended to be
cruel.
Lord Chancellor. - Pray, Mr. Emmett, what
caused the late insurrection?
Emmett. The free quarters, the house-
. burnings, the tortures; and the fhilitary execu¬
tions, in the counties of -Kildare, Cfarlow, and
Wicklow.
Lord Chancellor. Don't you think the ar¬
rests of the 12th of March caused it ?
Emmett No; hut I believe if-it had"not
been f©r*these arrests', it would not have taken
place; for the people, irritated by-what they
suffered, had been long pressing the executive
m
to consent to ail insurrection, but.they had re¬
sisted or ' eluded it, and even determined to
persevere in tlae same line. After these arrests,
however, -other' persons came forward, who
were irritated, and thought .differently, who
•consented tt>l@t that partial 'insurrection -take
place,*
Lord Chancellor.«• Were all'the executive
arrested or pufr to flight hy the 'arrests of the
. ISth of March?
' Emmett. Your lordships will excuse Jny
answering to. that question, as it would point
out individuals.
Lord Chancellor* ~ Did you not thmk * the
government very foolish to let you proceed so
long as they did I
Emmett. No,thy lord; whatever.! imputed
to government, I'did not accuse them of folly,
I knew we were.ver-y attentively watched, hipt
.1 thought .they were right in -letting us pro¬
ceed. I have often said, laughing among pur-
selves, that if they, did right, thoy would pay
us for conducing the revolution, conceiving,
as I,then did, and now do, that*a revolution is
inevitable, unless speedily preyentect by very
.large measures' of ^conciliation. It soemed to
tne an-object with them, that*it should be con-
43TEKDIX. ul
ducted by-moderate men, of good moral charac¬
ters, liberal education, and some talents, rather
than by intemperate men of bad characters, Ig¬
norant, and foolish; and into the haijds of one
or other of those dasses-it undoubtedly will fall.
I also, imagined'ther fiforabera of government
might be sensible of tire difference between
"the change of their situation being'effected by
3 sudden -and violent* convulsion, or by the
more gradual-measures of a well conducted re¬
volution. If it were effected sudderfiy. by an
insurrection—SlpPI-nCed- not tell your lord¬
's!] ips, tl\at had there been a general plan of
acting, and the north had co-operated with
Leinster the last insurrection would haw in¬
fallibly and tetpidly succeeded p in such case,
you would be fumbled at-onqe- from your pin¬
nacle; but if a revolution were gradually ac¬
complished^ -you \voiild Jiave* time'to accom¬
modate,*end habituate yourselves to your new
situation." 'Forthese- reasons/1-imagin'od~gov-
erument did fibfr wish- to-irritate.and push
tiling's forward.
rd ChaticJdhr.. Pray, do ybu thiiik'Oath-
olie emancipation" and:- parliamefuthry* reform
afly objects Withdhe common people?
''Emmet!: As to Catholic emanoipatibn,, I
- *Dm ,
don't think it matters a feather,, or that the poor
think of it. As to parliamentary reform, I
don't think the common people ever thought of
it, until it was inculcated to them that a reform
wojild cause "a removal- of. those grievances,
which they actually do feel. From that time,
I believe, they have* beeome very much attach¬
ed to the measure. -
Lord Chancellor» And do you think that
idea has been - successfully inculcated into the
common people ?-
Evnmett. It has not been my fortune to
communicate much with them an that subject;
so that I cannot undertake to say how far it has
been successfully inculfcated into them ; but of
this I am certain, that since the establishment
of the United Irish system, it has been incul¬
cated into all the middling classes, and muoh
more among the common" people, than ever it
wa% before.
Lord' Chancellor. And. what grievances
would siich.a reformed-legislature remove?
Emmett. In. the first place, it would cause
a complete abolition yf tifh.es; in the next, by
giving the cbranion people an increased value
in the democracy, it would better their situa¬
tion, and make them more respected by tfieif
APmroiX. Si&
superiors ; the condition of the poor would be
ameliorated ; apd what is perhaps of more con¬
sequence than all the rest, a system of national
education would be established.
Ijord Dillon. The abolition of tithes
would be a very good thing,- but don't you
think it would be more beneficial to the land-
* f *
lords than the tenants? „ . *
Ai chbishop of Cashel. ^Aye, it is they
would benefit by it.
Emmett, My lords, I am ready to grant,
that if tithes were now abolished, without a
reform, there are landlords who would raise
thp rent on their tenants, when they were
making new leases, the full value of the-titheSj
and, if they could,, more; but if a reform suc¬
ceeded. the abolition of tithes, puch a reformed
legislature would very badly know, or very
badly perform its ditty, if it did not establish
such a system of landed tenures as would pre;
vfipt landlords from doing so; and let me tell your
lordships, that if a revolution ever takes place,
a very different system of political economy
will be established , from \vhat has Jhitherto pre¬
vailed here.
Lord GlenUoorth. Then your intention
was to destroy the 'church ?
<
* 1 * *
9 EinmeUPardon me,.my lokt, my intern*
4^n neverIvas to destroy the'* church. My
wish decidedly "was to overturnAho» establish¬
ment. *
•Lord Dillon. I understand you*—and have
it as*if is in France ?
As'it Ts*: t America,"* my.lords.
« Dord Kthvardev. Pray, Mr. Emmett, do
'you know of any tmmmunications with Franco
since your arrest ?
Eyuneft. I do^ my lord, Mr, Cook? tbld
me of one.
• »
. Lord Kihfrarden. ."Bilt don'4 you*in any other
way, kfiow whether* communications s+e stilly
tfoing on'(jetyccen thfs country and France?
DmwctU 4 No; biftl havfe no doubt *that
evefi after \te •sfrall hcfve left this countiy,
9 * • m * *
there will rdmam among the 500,000 and hp-v
wards which Compose the "Ilifioh, maiiy per¬
sons of (fielent talents,* enterprise,* Cnth'u-
SiiTsm, aiijj opportunity, who will continue Hie
old,- or open a new communication wftlr
France, if it sixri.ll be necessary ; aritf iti look¬
ing ovef, in my -own mind, the "persons "whtmi
I khenv of most talents anr^nterprise, t cannot
help suggesting to -yiyself .tHb persons I think
Am&XXX. 245
most likely to do 'so j Bttf I must be -excused
pointing at them, ,
THOMAS ADDIS EMMETT.
TEH" EXAMINATION
OF
TIIOMAS ADD *6 EJJMETT,
JSf cjore ilik svsret Qmuwtttce of ike House of
Goi/nhbuS) August id, 47.93:.
*> •- * >
Lord Oa^tlereagh mentioned that the wii-
jmtesqf,my examination* before the lords had
l^een transmitted to them, and that they'only
wanted to ask Hie a few questions in explana¬
tion -of those .minutes. The general turn of the
» - ■ . «*. v -
examination was therefore the same as that
♦ »**«"* ^ #
before the uj>per house; but I could observe
mil eh more manifestly this time than before, a
dp sign, out of my answers, to draixthe conclu¬
sion that lmtiling; would content" the people
bat^iiGkuliangpjs as would bc^a d^partffrq frdrc
245 APPEJSDTX,
r
what -they choose-to call*the English constitrH
-tion, and the English system,* 4nd" therefore I
presume, they ftieant to infer, that the popular
cMms npist be resisted:-at all hazards. The
Speaker seemed to me to take the lead in Con¬
ducting the investigation to this point.
Lord Costlereagh. Mr. Emmett, 'you said
in<your examination before the lords', that the
French had not macle known the place where
tliey intended*landing^ haw then wilf-you ex¬
plain an address which we have hefe, stating
that the French were shortly expected in
trail try Ba^ ?
Emmett. My lords; I know nothing at pre%
sent of that address; .but I suppose on farther
enquiry it will beYourrd -to be some mistake,
as t am, positive they never .mentioned JBantry
Bay in any 'edtntnimieation ; I know3< on the
contrary, Gal way Bay was looked 'on'a's the
probable "place of their landing.
N. B. 1 find, upon> inquiry, tjiat address is
without dote, and was written after the
French had-disappeared 'from JBantry Bay,
and were generally expected to return.
* %
Mr. Alexajtden I haye here some resolu-
t* + ~ «* * ~
tieps, (which he read, undj which, amsng other.
things' sfiokfiof Ihe escteni of (He confiscation;#
AFH2ff©lX Sit
that would be made in the event of a revolution,
and how . they should be applied)—-do you,
know any thing of them ?
Emm'ett. I have a recollectjou of having
read them before ; and if that - recollection be
right, they are* resolutions that have been.pas£«
ed hy an individual society at -Belfast, and
wpre seized at the .arrests' of Barrett, Burn
sidu, and others
Mr. Alexander. They are the same.
Eznmett. Then I hope the committee will
draw no inference from-them tfs.. toother vieWs*
of the executive pr of the "whole body. Yoq
know tfie north well, and that'every man there
tiwns his mind moje or less on speculative-poli¬
tics ; but certainly Ihe opinion of a few of th<"
leasf informed among them cannot be consid¬
ered as influencing the whole.
Mr. J. „C- J^eresford. Aye, but would you
bd able to make silch. people give tip their awii
opinion, to follow yours?
Envmeit. I am Convince a we snouia; be¬
cause I krfoVf we have done it before, pn points
wh«efe their opinions and wishes were very
strong.
Mr. Alexander* "How did you hope to
2l£* AI?%$535i£ "
hold the *■ people in or(fer an^l "good conduct
wtttm tlie rems'ef goveyiment Were loosened ?
jF^lwictt. By other equally powerful rein's.
It yres for this purpose that I considered the pr.0-
inot,ing ofi organization to be a morpl-duty. IlaV-
higjio*-dohb^tfyat a rCVdkftion would,% and will
-take place, uidess pr§vepted by removing the
national grievances, I siftV" m the organisation
the only way q£ preventing it 3* being spell tis
wtaild'^ve the nation lastingrilses of gfief
.and sfratne. Wlu3ther there" be organization
or not, the rcyolfition will'take pface hilt? if
t^e people be classed.and asgaug^d for ^he'pitr-
posy fl^e control w.llich*heads ©fkkep:b\vn ap*
ppiutmciit \$bH have, over .then^ b j tfipns of
tjie different, degree,? of representation, and or-
g^is of communication, will,.J hope. preVent
tueni4iotn-committing those gets of outrank
<cndv cruelty, yliicb mqy -expected froih, a
justly hit hated, but ignorant and uncontrolled
pofkiktce*. ^
, Ahj'uwdfi*' But ilo you % tbmlc there
were in the.JJnipn'sucn organs of cqjnmunictt*
tioii as had an niuHencq, over the lower orders,
and were at the same- time fit'to cbmmunicatl
and do.business with person# of a batter'com
d it inn?
• *Emmett. T am '-sirre thefe were multitudes-
of extremely shrewd and sensible*men. whose
haljits of living weYe with the lower orders,
but who were* perfertlyWell qualified for doing
business with persons of any eonditioif.
Speaker* • Ybn say the number of TJbifed
Irishmen 4s fivb hundred" thousand—do you
took wpon therh till a"s fighting men ?
•iZmmett* •Thereare undoubtedly some eld
men and. gome young lads rrmong'thetrij but J*
am sure d-sphak"" within, hpifrfds when I say the
number of fighhig.men in the -Union can not be
less-ihah three InmTIrCd thou sand,
Speaker* I nndhrstanddaccoidmgdxryort,
the views of the United Ijish went to a repub¬
lic and se"[>arat'oh "frduf England v but tbey
would probably liaVe compounded for a reform
-in jititliamemt.*' .Am I inn .right, 'however, in.
understanding that the object heviPtteir hearts
Vas-fi: rcppratioifanS. aVepublic 1
Iuhimeilj: Paulou'me, the object next their
hearts Tvas a-h'edvess of their grift vaifces; two
liiodes "of aceoh>pfis3iihg that objeftt presented
tiiemselrps'lb tlxeir view p oife was a reform by
pedceahfe means^-the other was a revolution
imd rcjHihlic, "fliave wo.dtufb't but that if-they
could have iialtered themselves-that the object
559
APPENDIX.
next-tkeir hearts would, be accomplished peace¬
ably, by a jefbrnr, they would prefer it infin¬
itely to a revolution and republic, which must
be more bloody in the if operation ; Obut I am
also conyinced, when they saw they could not
accomplish the object- next their hearts, a-re¬
dress of their grievances, by a reform, they de¬
termined in .despair to procure it by a revolu-^"
ticwa, which X am persuaded is inevitable, un¬
less a reform be granted.
Speakers . Xoh. say .that-a revolution, is in¬
evitable, unless a peferm -be granted: What-
would be the consequence of such a reform irl
redressing jvhal you-call the grievances of thq
people ?
Emmett. In, the'first plade, -I look tcr"the
abolition of tithes. I ►think such a reformed
legislature would product mi amelioration
o'f the state- of the pqor, and a dlmunitiftn ojf the
rents of lands, would establish, a system of na¬
tional education3 would t'egdlate the commer¬
cial intercourse bqfween Great IBritian- and Ire¬
land, on the footing of4perfect ^equality, and
correct, the blpcfdy .nature of your .criminal
code. t .
.Speakers You, spe^k of the .abolition* of
APPEymX. t S61
tithes ; do yoii include io»th^t- the .destruction,
of the establishment?
r Effimett. I havamyself ha d<iuht of the es¬
tablishment's beiqg' injurious, and I look to
its destruction; but I earurpt undertake to,say
how far-the whole of that'measure is cofitem-
plated by the body of the people, because I
have frequently heard an acreaJHe tax proposed
as a substitute, which necessarily supposes the
preservation of the establishment.'
Speaker.* I)onh you think the Catholics'
peculiarly object to tithes? •
* Emmet,t. They- certainly have the best
reason to eomplain, but I rafchpr think they q!>
ject as tenants more tft_an as "Catholics, and in
common with the rest -of the' tenantry of the
"kihgdpm; anehaf.apy other -way of paying
even a protcstartb establishnfent, which .did not
bear so sensibly on their industry, wq^e to take
place, I believe it would gU a great, w'ay to
content .thenl; thotfgh I confess it would Hot
content nie; -but J -must odd, that'I would (I
am sure so- wbuld many others who think 'of
establishments Kke rne)( eonsept to giye the
present incumbents equivalent pensions*
* Lord"dastlezeaglu "Don't you think the
•6S A^TSJfDlX.
Catholittsloak to accomplishing the destruction
of the establishment?
Einmett. "From' the declaration they made
in 1792, or 1793,»I am sure they'did not then ;
I'cannot say how far their opinions may havo
altered since, but from many among them pro¬
posing a substitute for tithes-, I- am led to be¬
lieve the}?- may not yet be gone sq far.
Lord Cffstle-redgh. But don't y©u think -
tlioy will look to its destruction ?
Emineit. I Cannot pay-so .bad a compli¬
ment to the reasohS which have ' convinced
myself, as not to -suppose they Will convince
others. As the hitman jnind gfrow-s phllosry*
phic.it will, I-think, ynsh for the destruction,
of all re!i5>ous*estab 1 i sh me w ts, and therefore,
in proportion as the -cafUoli^ unitad be£orae»
philosopluQ, \X will of cotlrse enteJElm the same
wishes—but I consider thaf as,tire result of its
philosophy, atid nof of its religion.
Lord Castdsriagiu "Don't you think the
catholics would wish to set up a fntholic esta¬
blishment, in lieu of tlm-protcstani One ?
* "Emmett. Iwdeed X e.von at the pre*,
sent day ; perhaps some old-priests.. who* ha-vo
long groaned-ifhder the pe«ftHaws;«ight wish
for.a retribution to themselves—but I don't
Aprzroix. ft*
think the ymmg priests Vrish for" it, and I am
convinced the laity v/onld not submit to it,
and that the -objections to it will be-every day
gaining strength,
* Speaker. You also mention that a reform
would dinfmish the* rents of lands; how do
you think that- wootid be "done ?
Emmett. I am convinced rack rents cair
only take place in a country otherwise essen¬
tially oppressed; if the v-alu^cf*the people
Xpas raised in the state, their imnortance would
' A- *
influence the landlords to consult their inter¬
ests, and 'therofore'to better 'their condition.
Thus I think, it.wo-ifld take place,#nven with¬
out any law bearing tipoiilho matter.
Mr. Alexander. * Mr. Emmett, yah have
gone circuit for many years; now haVe yon no?
ohsesved 'that the co'nditier\ cf the people has
been"gradually bettering? ' ,
Emmett. Admitting that the face of the
country has assumed a better appearance; if
you attribute*^ t"o the operation of any laws
you have'passed, I must only declare my opin¬
ion, it is post hoe sed "nbn ex hoc. As far as
the situation of th6 lower orders lias been bet¬
tered in Ireland, it results from the increased
knowledge, commerce, and iiifercourse of the
APPENDIX.
different states.of Europe with one another,
and is enjoyed in this oountry only in common
with the -rest of civilized Europe-and America.
I believe the lower orders in all thosn eountries
have been improved in their condition within
these twenty years, but X doubt whether 'the
poor of this kingdom have been bettered in a
greater proportion than the poor in the despotic
states of Germany. .
'Speaker* You mention an. improved sys¬
tem of national education; are. there nof as
many schools in Ireland as in England ?
Ejnmett. 1 believe there are, and that there
is in proportion as great a fund in Ireland as- in
Englandjjf it were,fairly applie.d ; but there is
this great difference, the schools are protestant
schools, which aliswer very Well.iif England,
but do little good among the catholic peasant¬
ry in Ireland—Another thing to be considered
isj that stronger pleasures, are necessary for
educating, the Irish people than are necessary
in England: in the latter country, no steps
were .taken to, counteract the progress of
knowledge; it had fair play, and was gradu¬
ally advancing ; but in Iceland you have bru¬
talized the vulgar mind, by long continued
operation o£ thje popery laws, which, Chough
AFFESEIX £35-
they are repealed, have left an effect that will
not cease these ^fifty years. It is incumbent
then on you to coiy>teiact that effect by mea¬
sures which are ndt equally necessary in En¬
gland.
Speaker. You mentioned the criminal code;
in what does that differ from the English?
Emmett. .It seems to me,, that it .would be
more* advisable, in reviewing ouf criminal
la"\y5, to corppare the crime with the punish¬
ment, than the Irish code with thfe English;
there is, however. One difference" -that occurs
to me on the instant—admin isteMng unlawful
oaths is in Ireland punished with death.
Eord Castlereagh. That is aTaw connect¬
ed witlj the security of the state.
Emmett.- If it T intended to keep up the
ferment of the pirblic mind, such laws may be
necessary; but if it be intended t© allay the
ferment, they are perfectly, useless.
Speaker,. Would putting.the commercial
in<ercourse-*Qn the footing of equality, satisfy
the people I
Emmett. I thihk that equality of situations
would go'nearer satisfying the people than any
of the other equalities thaj have been alluded to.
Speaker. Then your opimpn is that we
APPENDIX,
c^nn'ot avoid a revolution, •Unless" w€ abandon
*
the English constitution, and the "English sys¬
tem inborn"'establishment, education* and crim¬
inal laws ?
Emmett. J! have already touched on the
latter subjects-; as to the Englishfconstitutipn,
1 cannot conceive h«w a feforfn in parlianjeut
caii be said to destroy that.
Speaker.^ Why, in What db'es fh«r re'ffre-
seeatation differ in-Ireland from that in Eng¬
land ; arS there not irrEngland close .boroughs,
and is not the' right of suffrage .there confined
to 40s. freeholders ?
Emmett. kIf' I were an Englishman, I
should he discontented, and therefore cannot
suppose that putting Ireland-on a'foofing With
England • would content the people11 of "this
country; if, however, you have a mind to try
st partial experiment, for the success of which I.
-would not. answer, you ohist consider how
mapy are the'closer hotougfiaand large towns
which* contribute to £ke •appointment of theic
f)55S^and diminish in the same proportion the
numberthc'cIoS?} bordnahs and towns wirich
* f * *
contribute to the appointment* t>f our 300;
eve if that Woutd he a gain to Ireland ; hut that
there should he no'mistake; or confusion of'
AFpEKOTX
terms, let us drop the equivocal words of En-
ghsji. constitiitibriy and then I answer,, I would
dot understood to.-say, that the government,
of king, lords and commons, would be destroy-
«d by a reform of tlie lower house.
Lord Castlereagh. And'don't, you think
that such a house could, not co-exist with, the
government of .king and lords ?
„ JEmmeti. If it would not, my lord, the eu-
logi^s.that have, been passed on, thei British
constitution are very rauqh misplaced: but I
think they could all exist together, the king
and lords meant fairly by the people; if they
should persist'in designs hostile to tire people,
I do belie.ve they would be pyeitfhrown.
[ft was. then intimafed,. that thpy had got
into a theoretical discussion, and tli£t what they
wished to enquire into was^facjts.]
'Sir*F. Parnol. Mr. •Emmettf while you
and tip« executive ^were philosophising,' Lord
Edward -Fitzgerald was arming mid disciplin¬
ing the people, ^ ;
EmmeiL Lord Edward was a military
man,' and if was doing so, he probably
thcrught that was the way in which he could
be most useful to the country; Jhnt I am sure,
that if those? with whom he acted were con-
m APPEXDIX.
Yinced that the grievances of the people were
redressed, and that force was become unne¬
cessary, -he would have been persuaded to drop
all armitfg and 'disciplining.
Mr. J. C. Beresford. I knew LordT Ed¬
ward well, and always found hup very obsti¬
nate.
Emmett. I knew Lord Edward right well,
and have -done a great deal of, business with
him, and have always found, when he had a
reliance on the integrity and tale'nts of the per¬
son he anted with, he was one of the most per¬
suadable men alive—but if'he thdught a man
meant dishonestly or unfairly Joy hirn, he was
as obstinate as a tfiule.
[Many questions were then put to me rela¬
tive to different papers and proceedings of the
United Irish; among the rest, John Sheares's
proclamation was mentioned with considerable
Severity. J took that opportunity of declaring,
that neither the execution of John Sheares, or
the obloquy that was endeavored to .be Cast
on* his memory, should • prevent my declaring
that I considered John Sheares a very honora¬
ble and humane man.]
" Mr. French, Mr, Emmett, can you point
A2PE2TDIX,
out any -way of inducing the people to give
Up their arms ?
Emmett. Redressing their grievances, a$d
Iio other.
Eord Castlereagh. Mr. Emmett, we are
unwillingly obliged to close this examination
by the sitting of the house.'
Emmett. My lord, jf it be the vPish of the
oonjmittee, I will attend it any other time.
Lord Casflereagh. If we want you, then
we shall seild for you.
After the regular examination was closed, I
was a£ked by many of the members whether
there were many persons of property in the
Union. I answered that there was immense
property in it. They acknowledged there was
great personal property in it, but v^itehed to
know was there much landed property; I an¬
swered-there was. They ksked me was it fee
.simple; to that I could give no answer. The
attornby-general said there was in it manyland^
holders who had large tracts of land, and felt
their landlords to be great grievances. / I ad*'
mitted that to be the, fact,- They asked me
had wd proivded any form of government. I
told thdm we had a provisional governmen for
the.instantj -which we retained id memory \
JWW APPENDIX
bwt.as.-to any permanent /orm of government,
we tliought that, and mapy other matters re¬
lating to the changes which would .become
necessary, were not proper objects for our dis¬
cission, but should be referred to acommittce
chosen by the people.
They did not ask what the provisional gov¬
ernment was,
THE IRISH PATRIOTS OPH&
As matter not intimately/ though remotely
connected with, this work, we append here a
brief sketch of the Irish patrcts of a laie day j
among, the most prominent of whom was John
Mitchell. lie was tried and condemned for
the fearless expression of his opinions in rela¬
tion to the duty of Irishmen. We jare indebted
/or the following apcount of the. trial to v The
Felon's Track," by Michiel Dohent, one of
the patriots :
Mitchel's.arrest, under the- treason felony act
APPENDIX. Ml
"was not unexpected. But assoonas.it was as¬
certained that he was lodged ih. Newgate, his
fate engaged, the entire care of his co-confeder¬
ates, The question at once arose ^whether,
if a rescue were attempted, there were Resour¬
ces to ensure even a decent.jstand. It was as¬
certained that the supply of arms and ammuni¬
tion was scanty'and imperfect, and' -the supply
of food still scant jer. Thq people had been de-
cimafecLby three years of famine: and no want
could he more appalling than the want of food.
On inquiry, it was found that there was not
provision for thijee days • in the capital, which
depended on daily arrivals for its daily bread.
Throughout, the country, the supply was even
mor_e precarious. The Government had in
their o\yn hands the uncontrolled power of pre¬
venting the arrival of a single grain of corrr;
and, if fo minded, could starve Jjie island-in h
fortnight, supposing the people were even able
to possess themselves of alf the cattle in the
country.
These were some of the considerations which
influenced the decision*of Mr. Mitchel's com¬
rades. Whether the opinion were or Were not
a correct one, they acted on the conviction that
under all the circumstances, any attempt to res-
12
:26i APPENDIX.
Cue him would evpntuate in a street row, which
would entail not only defeat, ^but disgrace. If
they could but persuade themselves that a blo\v
might be struck, even though defeat and death
followed, they most certainly would have at¬
tempted it. It was generally understood, on
the day before the triafj that the idea of a res¬
cue was abandoned; and thep rial-commenced,
amidst gloomy presentiments and* blighted
hopes. After hours of quibbling and* legal
fencing, a jury was selected, by the crownr to
convict. * From the moment they went through
'the blasphemous process of swearing to give a
true, verdict, John Mitchel's fate was sealed*
I pass over, the details, and come to the last
act in the infamous drama, called his_ trial.
The following account of the closing 'scene
"is not mine. Feeling inadequate to describe a
'scene of'which even a distinct recollection is
exciting, I asked a friend who -fell the deepest
interest ill the trial; to describe it. With what
he has written I entirely agree, sgve one sen¬
tence. He says that it was owing to tlie action
of the council of the Confederation John Mitch¬
el's person^ friends were allowed to be assault¬
ed, with impunity, by the police. I do not
think so. With respect to the decision of the
APPENDIX.
263
••council, I feel bound to assume my share of its
responsibility, although I yielded to it wrth'the
utmost reluctance ^nd regret.
Oil the morning of Saturday^ the 27th May,
J.849, the court waserowded to a greater excess
than usual, even in those days. About the
empty dock-were.the personal friends ©f Mr.
Mitchel, those who agreed'with him, and tho&e
who did not. A little retired on either side
sat John Martin and John fienyon—in front
were William H. MMehe-1, brother of the <pri-
, soner, and his only relative in court,, T. Devin
Reilly, Thomas F. Meagher, John B." Dillon,
Mitchel Doheny, Richard O'Gorman, Martin
O'FIaherty (Mp. Mitchel's attorney),-Charles
tKJIara, and others whom we have forgotten.
A little in advance, on the left of the dock,
were the stalls reserved during the sham trial,
for the counsel fpr the defence. As yet they
were only occupied by the junior advocates,
Sir Cjoleman O'Loghlen and John CfHagan.
The benches at *the right of the dock, and
nearer to the bench, reserved for the Attorney-
General and his retainers, were vacant. The
Sheriff and his white stick occupied their box,
and the galleries to the right and left were
crowded with jurymen—those who " had done
264
APPENDIX.
their business," -and those who were eager for
employment to do more. ' The bench of the
judges held two empty chairs. And police of¬
ficers, and other mercenaries, dotted thickly
ovef the court, " concluded and set off the ar¬
rangements."
An old man, low 'of stature, and stooped,
passed through a side door,» and walked slowly
and decrepidly into the benches of the prison¬
er's counsel. ,-Whispers,. and -then applause
from the galleries, were1 heard and passed by
him unheeded. QjuieJly" and unostentatiously
he moved- to his seat—the jjmipr* advocates,
and all. the confederates in the body of the
court, rising and bowing to hjm jn silence. k It
was the solitary Republican of the United Irish
day, Robert Holmes,, coming to discharge his
last duty to the great Republican of a younger
century.
The applause of the galleries was flushed by
the-crier's voice—" Silence ! take -off _your
hats "'--arid on the-right stalked in the gaunt
figure of James-Henry Monaghan. Triumph,
animosity, and feai>marked his night-bird face.
Even yet it was hoped the great opponent of
his " government," whom by rascality alone
he could convict, would strike his colors, and
APPENDIX. 265
sue for mercy. Even yet it was feared, that a
•escue would be attempted. How possibly the.
former was,-the reader may judge. The lat¬
ter was rendered impossible by the council of
the Confederation, and tjie few who cherished
the design in th$ councils despite, had attempt¬
ed an. cmeute*X he night previous, aricl were
beaten and placed hors da combat. As Monag-
j>an apd his retainers entered, the red face of
Lefroy oozed through the bench curtains, .and
followed by the .pale Moor, " the court was
seated-".
As yet the dock w&s empty, saveMhat the
jailer of Newgate andfii^ deputy occupied each
a corner. *There was dea&silence.
1. * ■
" Jailer, put forward John Michel," said the
official, whose duty is to make such orders,
A grating of bolts—a rustling of chains, were
heard behind. The low door-way at the hack
of the dock opened, and between turnkeys
Mitchel entered.
Ascending the steps to the front of the dock,
and lifting, as be advanced, the glazed dark cap
die wo«e during his imprisonment, as gracefully
a§ if he entered a drawffig-room. he took his
stand in a firm biffr easy- attitude. His appear¬
ance was equally removed from hrav.ado and
206
APPENDIX.
fear. His features, usually placid and pale,
had .a rigid clearness about th^m that day, we
carr never forget. They seemed, from their
transparency and firmness; Like some wondrous
imagination of the artist's ehisel, in-which th©.
marble, fancying itself human, had begun to
bre&the. „ The eye was calm and bright—the
mouth, the feature round which-danger loves
to play, though easy, motionless, and with lips,,
apart, had about* it an air of immobility and
quiet scorn, which was not the effect of-muscu¬
lar action, but of nature in repose. And in his
whole appearance, features, attitude and look,
there was a conscious pride and. superiority
over his opponents, which, though mi presum¬
ing tmd urbane, seemed to speak louder than
words—I am the'-vietor here to-day»"
He saluted quietly those friends about the
dock he had not that day seen, conversing
with one or two, and bowing to those at a dis¬
tance. He then'directed his eyes to the court.
After some preliminary forms, Baron LeJSroy
commenced operations, by stating that fie had
called on the case the first that morning, in or¬
der togive time for any application to be made
in court by,*or on behalf of, the prisoner of. the
crown.
APPENDIX. 261
Again there was # silence of some minutes.
Tfig judges looked at each other inquiringly.
The crown prosecutor watched the prisoner's
counsel. Upon the prisoner .himself another
eyes were fixed.
There was no reply,
"Business proceeded." The "Clerk of the
Crown " .rising ti ask the usual question—"If
Mr. Mitchel had anything to say why judgment
should not "he passed.upon him?"
" I have," he answered and after a moment¬
ary look at judges, jury-box:, and sheriff, he
slowly continued. - "I have to say that I have
been tried by a packed jury—by thb jury of a
partisan sheriff—by a jury.not .empanelled,
even according to the law of England. I have
been found guilty" by a packed jury obtained
by a juggle—a jury norjempaneiled by a sheriff,
but by a juggler."
Here he was interrupted by the sheriff ris¬
ing, and, in high indignation, claiming the pro¬
tection of the court.
" That is the reason," continued Mitchel,
"that is the reason why I object to the sen¬
tence being pass'edon me."
"-That imputation,'" interrupted - Lefroy,
"upon the conduct ofitlie -sheriff I must pro-
263
AP'PENDIX.
nounce to be most unwarranted and unfound¬
ed." And this discriminating judge continued
to show'that the imputation was so—conclud¬
ing with the- assertion that the sheriff " had
done his duty in the*case." Then without
pausing, he proceeded to the usual lecture, full
of the hypocritical cant with which .British
judges usually preface their "awards; however
infamous. He alluded to the personal condi¬
tion of Mr. MitcheJ, and expressed his regrets
that a person of such merits should be in such
circumstances. Then having dilated 011 the
enormity of the offence, he assured Mr. Mitchel
that he had been found guilty of many heinous
charges against the Queen and the Imperial
Cro\tai, and among others, of feloniously-intend¬
ing to levy war upon that gentlewoman, and
that the evidence anas furnished by the prison¬
er's self. "How, therefore," he continued,
"you think yourself justified in calling it*the
verdict of a packed jury, and tjius imputing
perjury to twelve of your countrymen—deliber¬
ate and wilful perjhry—
"No,"- interrupted die prisoner," "I did not
impute perjury to the jury."
"I understood,"" .sgjd the' speaker on the
bench, "that.you Had stated, in arrest ofjtidg-
APPENDIX.
£09
iTL£Tit,„that you had been fdund guilty by a
packed jury."
"I dick," was the reply.
Robert Holnlers- rose, during the judge's
speech, and said, "My lords, with tfip greatest
respect, wfyat I was, that though he might
Jbe. statutably guilty, he .was not, in my opinion,
morally guilty. I repeat that' opinion now."
This avowpT, so hojdly and firmly made by
the veteran Republican, Was answered by all
the audience, not pensiqne,d, with plaudits.
JBarou Lefroy would Say 110 more on that
point, only that the. court could not acquie§ee
in a line of defence " which appeared to it very
little short of, or amounting to, as objectiona¬
ble matter*^ ^iat '£or wMch the prisoiier.had
been found guilty."
"Ij" replied ihe aged advocate, "I am an¬
swerable for that under ^our act. of"Parlia¬
ment."
Loud applause followed. "Are there no
policemen in -court ?" shouted Baron Lefroy.
The High Sheriff "had given strict orders,"
fie said, "to" have all removed who would in¬
terrupt." "Make prisoners of them," said the
judge. "I -wish you to understand," he con¬
tinued, still excited, and addressing Mr. Mitchel,
210 Appprsix.
who during these episodes, stood tin moVed,
'Hh.it'we have with the? utmost anxiety, ahd
with i vl® 1V-F0 cciiicr to a tkcfdmi upon the
measure of punishment whidfi it would be bur
duty to ifnpose* postp&ned the passing of sen¬
tence on you until this* morning." Then, hav¬
ing stated the various Considerations udiich In¬
duced him to lielieve tfiat the punishment
should bejenient-aiid'the equally various con¬
siderations which induced .him* to believe "the
contrary, Lefroy concluded as follows: "tVe
had to consider all this—to look at the magni¬
tude ©f the crime, nnd to look gjso at the con¬
spiration, *that if this jvcre not the* first cage
btought.under the act, our'duty • might ha^e
obliged Ms to carry out the peiulltyj? awards to
therutmost extent; but, takirigMnt <%c on s ide r&-
tion?4hat this is "the firsf conviction*'under the
act—though the'offence has deen as* clearly
proved as any offence under the act could'be—
the sentence of thd cou/t' is, that yon be brans-
ported beyond the. seas for the term qf four-
teen years."
The listeners to the "hyprocritical sentence
which concluded Lefroy's speech, heard the
sentence with astonishment and indignation.
Mr. Mitch'el merely asked, apparently Without
APPENDIX. 271
-any astonishment if he might now address
some remarks to the court. The leave asked
granted, and a silence still as death await¬
ed |he prisoner.
"The law," he said, in-his usual manly tone,
aftd unexeited manne#, "the*lawhas now done
its part^ and. the Glue.en of Srigland, her crown
and government ill Ireland ^ara now secure—
< pursuant, tci act of Parliament.' I have don©
my part, -also. Three months Sigo, I promised
"Lord ClarencToii, and his government in this
country, that I would provoke huh into his
* courts of justice,'-as places .of this kind are
nailed, and that I Would force him publicly and
notoriously to pack a jury against me to con¬
vict me,, or eljse that I- would walk out a free
man froth this dock to meet him m another
field,
"My lord, I- knew.I was setting my life on
that cast; but f warned him that, in either case,
the-wictory would be with me; and the vic¬
tory is with me.. Neither the 'jury, noi> the
judgeg, nor any other man in this * court, pre¬
sumes to imagine that it is a criminal who
stand's in this dock,"
Pie was interrupted with the plaudits of the
auditory; and again, continued:
272 APPtfXDfX.
" I have kept ray word.- i have-showriwhatf
,the law is made of in Ireland. I have shown
that her majesty's government sustains itself
in Ireland by packed juries, b'y partisan judges,
by perjured' sheriffs* " *
Here he was illte'rrupted by Lefroy, who
said, "the court could noVsit 'there- to l^eaf him
arraign the jurDfs.of *the country, .the sh£R.ffs
of the country, the adlninistratiorL of "justice,
the tcnute by* which the crown of England
holds that crrjintfy. The trial was over. EveryJ
thing the prisoner had to say previous to the
judgment, the court was ready to hear, ana-did
hear." They couldliot suffer him ("Mr. Mitcliel)
to stahd'at that lxrr to repeat, vefy uearly; a re¬
petition of the offence for whicl} he. had been
sentenced."
"I will not *say," Mr. Mitchal continued,
"anything more of that kind, But I say
this—"
Lefroy fcgain interrupted hitn, to the effect
that, within certain limits the prisoner might
proceed.
"I have acted," he then said, have acted
all through this business, from the first, under a
strong s.ensq of duty. I do not regret anything
I have done, and I jjelicve ihat.the 'Course
APPENDIX. tl 3
which I have opened is only commenced-
The Roman," he continued in one of 4hose
bursts of -eloquence, with which he used. to
efectrify men, stretching forth l>is clenched haiad
and arm, "the Roman who saw his hand*b\irn-
jng to ashes- before* the tyta-ct^ promised that
three hundred should follow out his enterprise-
Can I rfot promise for ene, for two, for three,
aye for liundreds?"
."Here he pointed to his* friends/Reilfy', Mar¬
tin, and Meagher. A burst of wild enthusiasm
followed—
"Officer! officer!- remove Mr. Mitchel,'^as
heard fronr Lefroy. A ru3h was shade on the
« - #
•dock, and the foremost ranks sprung from th^
galleries, with -outstretched arms*to vow with
him too." The judges rushed 111 terror from
the benches-—tiro turnkeys-seized the hero, and
in a-scene of wild confusion he "half -\vaJked,
and -was half* 'forced- Jhrough the lo*W_, dark
doojf-way in the rear, waving »his- hand in a
quiet' farewell. The bolig grated, the gate
slainmed, and he was- seen no tnore-w
Men. stood in affright, and looked in each
others' faces- wohdermgly. They had seen a
Roman sacrifice in #this- modern world7 and
they were mute.
APPENDIX.
# % t *>
An hour elapsed—th£ excited crowd had
parsed a Way; juid the partisan judges, nervous
and ill at ease, ventured upon the bench again.
.They were seated and seemed to be settling
down to get--through "busiu#ss"f as well asi
they could," when Mr. Holme^, "whose defence
of Mr. Mitchel had been so offensive to them,
rose. "My lords,"' f}e said, ^ I thinly I had a
perfect-right tguse tjia language I did ye&erday.
I wish now to state that what I-said yesterday
as an advocate, I adopt to-day, as my own opin¬
ion. I here a^sow «aU I have said ; and, per-
"haps, undef this late -act o-f,parliament, her Ma¬
jesty's Attorney-General, if I have violated the
law, may thiflk it his'duty^tQ proceed against
me imthat way. But if i have violated the
law in anything I said, I must, with great re¬
spect tcf the Court, assert" that I had a perfect
right to state .what I stated; arid now I say jn
deliberation, that- the sentiments I expressed
with respect to England, and her treatment of
this country, are my sentiments, and I here
openly avow them-^ The Attorney-General is
present—?X retract nothing—fliese are my well
judged sentiments—these are my opinions, as
to the relative position of Englond and Ireland,
APPEXMX. Y/3
and if I have, as you sebm to insinuate, viola-4
ted tbg lay/ by sfetlhg those opinions, I notv
deliberately do so again: Let-her* Majesty's
Attorney-General da his duty to his govern¬
ment, I have done mine to myxountry.'^
Such was the conclusion of tfye trial of John
Mitchcl. The b*other-in-la\V and friend of Ro¬
bert Eromett, ' tfie republican of our fathers'
day's, came to attest the Justice of the republican
of our own, ond to vj§ with hint in defying
and scorning the infamous laws of'England.
It is needless to say} that the English officials
did not dare accept the challenge so nobly and
defiantly filing "dorym before the very dock:
whence onevietim had just been borne. •
T fbel tempted to add a word" of a scene that
intervened, in whichT took a' part. When the *
sheriff recovered his-self-possession, he ordered
Sevdtal to be arrestedamong othehs,^ Mr.
Meagher. The officer who seized him acted,
rudely and Violently, which led tt> further corn-
fusion, and the exchange of blows. * At last Mr.
Meagher and myself were sechfed and removed
to prison. When order was-restored> we were
brought Sut before the- court, and asked for an
expression, of regret. I answered, that having
hesfrd %. Mk6hel express, in *he dock, senti-
276 APPENDIX.
■merits in which* I errtrely concurred, I toqk
Immediate occasion <o .mark my most distinct
and emphatic approval. ■ In doing this I had.no
intention of an affront -to the court. But as tjo
retract,, or fegret, no punishment, in the power
of that oranyother cqurl to inflict, wouM com¬
pel me to do either one or the, other.
Mr. Meagher repeated the sSme thing1. We
wexe then reprimanded and sent back,. .Soon
after w e Were' recalled, and uppn motion of Mr.
Dillon^ and Sir Coleman O'Doughlin, on behalf
of Mr. Meagher, who stated that he would ex-
press.his regret for the co'ntempt of court, but
nothing elsex we were both released, although
I persisted ii> refusing e.ve'11 to join in the ex¬
pression of fegret "made far but not Jby Mr.
Meagher.
On the s^me day on .which the above scfene
took* pkce^-JFolin Mifchel was borne in irons
from the landof his love, the'wife of his bosom,
and the children of his heart.
fNext-iti the list came Mr. O'Doherty, who
was put on his trial. "The jury," says Mr.
Doheny,." Was of the stamp, usual in such
cases in Ireland. But a point of great impor¬
tance was raised by his counsel, as to the pub-
h rPENBIX.
217
lisher's intention to commit the felony, which
they insisted should be proved, to bring his casfe
within the provision of the treason Telony act.
The court, composed of Chief Baron Pigot ajld
Baron Pennefather, gave an opinion favorable
to this construction, and the jury refused to
conviet, for1 which the Castle Organ did not
hesitate to pronounce them perjurors. Every
one supposed and rejoiced that Mr. O'Doherfy
had escaped*; but the Vengeance of the Attor¬
ney-General was far frohi satisfied, and he had
ample satisfaction on a future day.
On the' 16t"h of August, John Martin was
placed- at the bar, before the same judges. The
instincts of the official, .exasperated by defeat,
exercised a keener vigilance in selecting a]jury;
and one was finally sworn that did not disap¬
point his sagacity. They'found a verdict of
guilty without hesitation; but recommended
th,e prisoner to meroy, which in" that case 'was
a*distinct contradiction of their oaths. The
composition of the jury, and the character of
the prosecution, will be best understood by a
perusal of the subjoined" Speech. No higher
proof could be given, of his purity of purpose,
elevation of sentiment, and goodness of heart.
On the 19th of August he Was called up to-re-
278 APPENDIX.
ceive sentence. He stood in the spot, hallow¬
ed by the^ footprints of Robert Emmett and
John Mitchel; nor was the heart he brought
to" the same sacrifice less worthy than theirs.
Upon his benevolent pountenance, or stout
heart, Ihe appliances of terror around him had
no effect. He stood unmoved ahd unawed, in
the glorious consciousness that he had fulfilled
his duty to his friend and t© hjs country,
When asked what he had to say why sen¬
tence should not be passed" upon him, he re¬
plied : :
My Lords :—I have no imputation to cast
upon the berrcli, neither have I anything of
unfairness" toward myself to'charge the jury
with. 1 think the judges desired to do their
duty fairly, .as upright judges and men, and
that the twelve -men .who were put into the
box, not to try, but to convict me, voted hon¬
estly according to their prejudices. 1 have no
personal enmity against the sheriff, sub.-sheriff,
or any other gentleman connected with the ar¬
rangements of the jury panel, nor against the
Attorney-G.eneral, or any other person engaged
in the proceedings called my trial. But, my
lords, I consider I have not yet been tried L
There have heen.certain formalities carried on
APPENDIX. 279
here for three days, hut I havenot been put up¬
on my country, according to the constitution
said ta exist-in Ireland!
" Twelve of my countrymen, 'indifferently
chosen,' have not been put into the jury-box
to try me, hut twelve men, who, -1 believe,
have beep selected bylthe par-ties who repre¬
sent the* .crown, for the purpose of convicting x
and not of trying me.
"Every person knows that what I have .sta¬
ted is the fact-; "hnd J would represent to the
judges, most respectfully, that they, .as honora¬
ble judges, and as upright citizens, ought to see
that the administration of justice, in this coun¬
try, is above suspicion. I have nothing more]
to'say »wkh regard .to the trial; but would be
thankful to the court for permission to say a few;
words after sentence is passed."
Chief Baron and Baron Pepnefather, -"No?
We cannot hear anything from you after sen¬
tence is pronounced."
."Then, my lorels, permit me to say, that ad¬
mitting the narrow and confined constitutional
doctrines, which I have heard preached in this
court,, to. be right, I am- not guilty of the charge
according to this act1 In the article .of. mine,
O , - v
oil which the jury framed their verdict, which
280 APPENDIX.
was Written in prison, and published in the last
number of my paper, what I* desired to do was
this, to advise and encourage my countrymen
to keep their arms ; because that is'their ina¬
lienable right, which no act of Parliament, no
proclamation can take away from them. It is.,
I tepeat, their inalienable right. I advised
them to keep their arms f and furthe'r, I advised
them to use their arms in their Own defence
•against all assailants—even assailants that
fiiight come to attack them unconstitutionally,
and improperly, using, the Q,yeen's name as
their sanction.
"My object in all' my proceedings has been
simply to establish the independence of Ireland
for the benefit of all the 'people of Ireland—
tioblemen, clergymen, judges, professional men
—in fact, all Irishmen. • I* soMg*fit that object
first, because I thought it was our right; be¬
cause I thought., and think still, national inde¬
pendence was the right of the people of this
countty. And secondly, I admit, that being a
man who loves retirement, I never would have
engaged in politics did I not think it necessary
to do all ip. my power -to make an" end of. the
liorrible scenes the country presents—the pau¬
perism and starvation, and cririie, and vice, &nd
APPENDIX. 3 281
the hatred of all classes- against each ' other. I
thought there should be an end to that horrible
system, which while it lasted, gave *yie no
peace of mind, for I could not enjoy anything
in my country, so long as Fsaw my country¬
men forced'to be vicious, •'forced, to hate each
other, and degraded to the level of paupers and
brutes. This _ is the reason I engaged in
politics.
"I acknowledge,.as the solicitor-general has
said, that I was but a weak assailant of-the En¬
glish power. I am not a good writer, and I am
n6 orator. I had only two weeks experience
in conducting a newspaper until I was put into
jail. But I am satisfied to direct the attention
of my countrymen to everything I have ever
written,, and to rest my character on a fair ex¬
amination of what I have put forward as my
opinions. I shall .say nothing in vindication
of my motives but this, that every fair and hon¬
est man, no matter how prejudiced he may be,
if he calmly-considers what I have written and
said, will be satisfied that my^motives were
pure and honorable. I have nothing ^rnore to
.say."
The Chief Baron, in passing sentence, allud¬
ed to the jury's " recommendation to mercy."
3S2 APPENDIX
Mh- Martin. "I can not condescend to ac¬
cept mercy where I believe I have been moral¬
ly right. I want justice, not mercy."
He was then sentenced to ten years' trans¬
portation.
-On two successive occasions, the jury em¬
panelled by the government, and carefully
packed to serve their end, refiised to convict
Mr. O'Doherty.. He was placed on his trial a
third time, on the' 30th of October, prosecuted
with the same enduring malignity,"and a ver¬
dict of guilty, suspected to be the result of a
fraud practised on the jury, was returned. Mr.
Williams, who was joint proprietor of the Tri¬
bune, - and jointly responsible, was acquitted,
after a protracted trial oir the -3d of November,
the jury being of opinion that although the arti-
' cles given in evidence were felonious, there
'was no proof to satisfy them that the proprie¬
tors, when publishing them, did so with a felon¬
ious intent: This distinctihn arose in conse¬
quence of the fair arid candid construction of
the felony act, given by Chief Baron Pigot
and l^aron Pennefather, on Mr. ODoherty's
first trial, to the effect that the jury should be
satisfied of the publisher's felonious intent; a
construction which the present Judges Cramp-
APPENDIX. 2es
ton and Torre.ns would not dare to contradict.
Notwithstanding this, just as the words, not
guilty, were pronounced" by the jury, in Mr.
Williams' case, despite the most flagrant .and
audacious bdllying of the bench, Mr. O'Doher-
ly was called up for judgment. Among all the
martyr-band whom this yea* .consigned to
doom, not one behaved himself with truer or
nobler heroism ; not one, either, whose fat.e
commands a deeper sympathy. Under thirty
years of age, largely gifted, with most respect¬
able connections, a high place in society, bril¬
liant prospects, and so unostentatious in his
enthusiasm, -that it was only then his country
heard of his devotion, and learned his worth ;
there he stood with as lofty consciousness and
as brave a heart as ever consecrated" the scaf¬
fold or the battle-plain.
""Judge Crampton pronounced the sentence.
Nature has ' supplied his lordship with charac¬
teristics of countenance .admirably, befitting
such a scene. Had he been-Only elevated to
the kindred office of actual' executioner, he
would have been spared the expense of a mask ;
for without it, no one could look- into hi's eyes.
Of course, he was teemiftg with compassion
and regret, which jointly "resulted ill a sentence
284 APPENDIX.
of transportation for ten years. Mr. O'Doher-
ty, who stood unmoved, after a few prelimina¬
ry observations in reference to the unfairness
of his trial, spoke as follows :
Mr. O'Doherty.—" I would feel much ob¬
liged if your lordship would permit me to men¬
tion a few more words with reference to my
motives throughout this affair. I had but one
object and purpose in view. I did feel deeply
for the sufferings and privations endured by my
fellow-countrymeiv I did- wish, by all means,
consistent with a manly and honorable resis¬
tance, to assist in putting an end to that suffer¬
ing. It is very true, and I will confess it, that I
desired an open resistance of the people to that
government, which, in my judgment, entailed
these sufferings upon them. I have, used the
words open and honorable resistance in order
that I might refer to one of the articles brought
in evidence against me, in which the writer
suggests such things as flinging burning hoops
on the soldiery. My lords, these are no senti¬
ments of mine. • I did not write that article.
I did not see it or know *of it until I read it
when published in the paper. But I did not
bring the writer of it here on the table. Why ?
I knew that if I were, to do so, it would be on-
APPENDIX. 285
ly handing him ow at-the court-house doors
to what one of the witnesses has very properly
-called the fangs of the Attorney-Os enaral. With
respect to* tnyself A have no fears: I trust 'I
Will he enabled to bear my sentence with all'
the forbearance due to what I believe to-be'
the opinion of twelve conscientious enemies to
me, and f will - bear with due patience, the
Wrath of the government -whose* jpaouthpiacb
tliey were- but I will never, c^se to deplpre
the destiny that gave me birth. In this-country,*
and .Compelled pie,. an Irishman, to 'receive
a\yoor hands' a felon\ tloom for "discharging
what I conceived, and what I still conceive,' to
be my duty."
Mr. Smith O'Erce-v, is another name "that*
fills the breast^qf an Irishman with enthusiasm
and we gife below a.shorf account of his trial,
with that ofhis illustrious comrades, from* the
same work quoted above : •
llhe 6th of "August jwajs the date, of Mr
O'j&rien's arrest,- the" 13th fcf*August-that*of
Messrs.. Meagher and 0"Donohoe,'and the ?tli
of Septernber. that" of *Mri *McManus. Mr%
O'Brien was .taken at the * TJiurles station
hpuse; Messrs. Meagher and O'Donqhoe, near
Eathgdnnon, oh the roa/1 bctwebe Cfonoulty
is
286 APPENDIX
and Holy-cross, aboujt five miles from ThtirleS,
and McManus on board the ship N. D. Chase,
in the bay of'Cove, on the 7th of September.
They were each conveyed to Kilmainham jail,
in the first instance, where they remained until
within a few days of the opening of the special
commission at Clonmell. This took place on
Thursday, the 21st of Sept., when the bills
were found, but six days were allowed to Mr."
O'Brien and the rest-of the prisoners, to'peruse
the indictment," with copies of which they
were respectively furnished. On Thursday,
the*28th, the trial of Mr. O'Brien commenced;
that of Mr. McManus on the 9th pf October}.
that of Mr. O'Donohoe on the 13th, and that
of Mr. Meagher-on the 16th.
Juries were* empannelled, in eaeh case, from
whose prejudice and bad faith, verdicts for*
high treason were expected, even though the
evidence only sustained a charge of common
assault. Ilpmaft Catholics were, in the first,
instance, scrupulously excluded; but after the
two first verdicts, one "or twp were admitted,
upon whose weakness of character, or genteel
aspirations, the government might safely rely.
It is but justice to .say, that according to the
law expounded by the bench, and the evidence
AFPEKDIX 287
given on the table, any other verdict was not
to be expected. But a jury differently com¬
posed, a jury of Englishmen, with their coun¬
try, their liberties, and their lives, periled to
the last extremity by misgovernment and
maladministration of law, would have spurned
the law, and the evidence, and relied on the
great fundamental rights of humanity so fla¬
grantly outraged by the government that then
-appeared as prosecutors.
The scene presented by Clonmell excited
mufch public surprise. Newspaper correspon¬
dents magnified the sullen gloom that prevail¬
ed, into popular apathy pr national cowardice,.
&s suited the bent or purpose of their ^employ¬
ers.' .The truth was, the people exhibited, dur¬
ing the trial, a decent and respectful forbear¬
ance. Empty parade, * or Vociferous- sorrow,
would only mock the lofty purpose of the suf-.
ierers; and besides, the mortification which
rankled m the public heart was too deep for
'Utterance.'" The hopes of the people - had been
dashed, and they were stunned and stupefied
by,their fall. But so far from being apathetic,
nightly assemblages were held fo consider if,
even in that extremity, something, was not yet
jpo§sible to be done,
283
APPENDIX.
But, if there were a show of popular indiffer¬
ence on the streets,., the court house presented
a very different spectacle. There everything
manifested an intense bitterness of purpose;
the court, composed of the two most unscrupu¬
lous partisans, (Chief Justices Blackbourne, and
Doherty.) and the weakest or falsest political
convert, (Mr.-Justice Moore,) simulated the
uncontrollable emotions which an overweening
loyalty awoke in the bosom of the Catholic At¬
torney-General. So far were their lordships
•swayed by the spirit of imitati veil ess, that the
most polished speakers, mistaking the incoher¬
ent jargon of the official for the broken utter-*
-ance of Overwrought zeal and shocked royalty,,
mimicked his distempered language as the only
befitting medium of expression for disturbed
feelings such a.s theirs. . The simplest and most
usual facilities accorded to murderers and pick¬
pockets, on their trial were rudely denied the
counsel for the defence. The principles of
law, recognized in England as sacred, were
scouted from the bench, and the farce of trial
proceeded through its different stages to the
final denouement, "with perfect regularity,
every one performing the part assigned hhn
with uperring accuracy.
APPENDIX. 289
Of the intrepid ability which struggled
against this fearful combination of bigotry, pre¬
judice, and passion, at the bar, on the bench,
and iit the box, I do not purpose to speak here.
But„I would be unfaithfiil to my trust, and un¬
just to the rarest hfiroism, if I did not record the
fortitude and fidelity of O'Donnell, from whom
the menaces of the crown, or the frown ofthe
bench, could not wring one word of evidence^
In an ordinary man, this would be singular in¬
trepidity ^ but circumstanced as O'Donnell was,
it amounted to a Roman virtue. One.brother
of his, a doctor, was in jail at Liverpool, charg¬
ed with political felony ■ another was hunted
through the country, and another was. in irons,
involved in the same' charge as the illustrious
accused; for them all he could command his
own terms, for much depended on his" testi¬
mony;. but though doom were upon them,
and a word of his could avert it, he refused to
speak. Honor be his. His integrity almost
cancelled the shame and .darkness of those dis¬
astrous times,
I can add nothing- to the testimony that es¬
tablished the .fortitude, manliness, and dignity
of the prisoners, as beyond precedent or exam¬
ple. That their bearing, one and all, was truly
290 appendix;.
noble, friends and foes took pride in attesting.
It was a solemn and a glorious sight; and men,
through all time, will turn to" that Clonmel
dock, to learn the inestimable and imperishable
value of sincere and lofty convictions", and a
truly heroic soul.
Of the speeches that follow, it will be observ¬
ed that Mr. O'Brien's was delivered before the
fate of his comrades was known. No man had,
ever greater need of vindicating others if hot
himself. !No man ever possessed in a higher
degree the capacity and strength to do so. He
was- satisfied it was the last opportunity Jie
would ever have on earth for explanation.
Yet, lest any sentiment of his might injuriously
affect thoge that were then, or might thereaf¬
ter be on their trial, he forebore to assert the
principles of which he was there the martyr,
and of which he was more than ever proud.
It was to the same Unselfish sentiment he
yielded, when consenting to say, not guilty,"
* The following is from the Freeman's Journal. An emi¬
nent Queen's- counsel, who was present during the awful
ordeal, was heard to give utterance to a sentiment so truth¬
fully graphic that we record it in full" Well," said he,
his eyes full and his countenance flushed with emotion,
"never was there such a scene—never such true.heroism
displayed before. Emmett and Fitzgerald, and all com¬
bined did not come up to that—so dignified, so calm, so
heroic. He is a hero."
APPENDIX. 291
to a charge he "would have felt the greatest
glory in avowing.
I despair of .conveying to my readers an
adequate idea of the gloom and horror of the-
scene in which those immortal words were
spoken. Death, near and terrible, was in the
future. The recollection, of ten days' infamy
peopled the present with ghastly images of
evil. Vindictiveness inexorable glared from
the bench. The dust around the feet of the
speakers was laden with guilt. It would not
rise to the briskest breeze, beneath the clear¬
est sky, in light summer air, so heavy had tha
tread of murder been upon it. And oh, to think
when they closed their eyes upon this world,
what deeper death they left their cpuntry. . .
. . . . Will no day of vengeance come,
oh God!' \ . / . . .
One of those benefits of the British constitu¬
tion, which excites the mortal envy of benight¬
ed "surrounding nations," is this, that the law
lies to the face of death, in the usual question
addressed to the condemned: " whether he had
anything to say why sentence of death and exe¬
cution should, nothepassed upon him V when
the most conclusive reasons that ever innocence
had to offer would be wo'rse than" vain. On
202 'APPENDIX.
the morning of the 9th of October 1848, this
barbarous mockery was addresse.d to lYdliam
O'Brien, and he* answered thus: -
1 Mb. O'Bbiejn—" My lords, it is no* ,piy in¬
tention, to enter intcfany vindication of my con¬
duct, however muqli I might have 'desired to
*avail myself of this-*opportunity 'of so doing.
I am perfectly satisfied with the consciousness
that I have performed my duty to my country
—fhatlhave done - only that which, in my
Opinion-, it "was the duty of every Irishman to
have done, and I am now prepared tq, abide
the consequences of having performed my duty
to my native' land. Proceed with your sen¬
tence." (Cheersin the gallery.)
Ori the tnorning of the 23d of the same
-month, the same formula was repeated to
Terence Bellew McManus, Patrick O'Donohoe,
and Thomas' Francis Meagher, who replied
respectively as follows;
- "Mr. M'Manus—"My lords, I trust I am
enough of a Christian and enough of a man td
understand the awful responsibility of the queSi
tionthat has been put tome. My lords, stand¬
ing on this my native soil—standing in an Irish
court of justiee, and before the Irish nation—
. I have much td say why sentence of death, or
APPENDIX. 293
the sentence of the law, should not be passed
upon me. But, my lords, on entering this
court, I placed my life, and what is of much more
importance to me—my honor—in the hands of
two advocates ; and, my" lords, if I had teti
thousand Jives, and ten thousand Jionors, I
would "be content to place them under the
watchful and the glorious genius of the one,
and the high legal ability of the other. My
lords, I am content. * In that regard I have no¬
thing to say. But I have a word to sayv which
no advocate, however anxious, can utter for
-me. I have-this to say, my lords,, that what¬
ever part I may have taken through any strug¬
gle for my country's independence j whatever
part I.may have acted in that short career,' I
stand before your lordships "now with a free
heart, and with a light conscience, -ready, to
abide the issue of your sentence.. And now,
my lords, perhaps this is the fittest time that I
might put one sentiment on record, and it is
this: Standing as I do between this dock and
the scaffold; it ihay be now, or to-morrow, or
it may be never; hut whatever the result may
be, I have this ^sentiment to put on record-
That in any part I have taken, I have not been
actuated by animosity to Englishmen. For I
294
appebtd-12.
have Spent some of the happiest and most pros¬
perous days of my life there ; and in no part
of my career have I been actuated by enmity
to Englishmen, however much I may have
felt the injustice of English rule in this island.
My lords, I have nothing more to say. It is
not for having loved England'less r but for hav¬
ing loved Ireland more, that I stand now be¬
fore you."
Mr. O'Donohoe confined himself to a few
words, concerning his trial-.
Mr. Meagher.—"My lords, it is my inten¬
tion to say a few words only. I desire that
the last act of a proceeding which has occupied'
so much of the public time, should be of short
duration. Nor have I the indelicate wish to'
close the dreary ceremony of a State prosecu¬
tion with a vain display of words. Bid I fear
that, hereafter,- when I shall be no more, the
country I have tried to serve would think ill of
me, I might indeed avail myself of this solemn
moment to vindicate my sentiments and my
conduct. But I have no such fear. The coun¬
try will judge of those sentiments and that
conduct in a light far different from that in
which the jury by whichl have been convic¬
ted have viewed them; and by the country, the
APPENDIX. 295
sentence .which you, my lords, are about to pro¬
nounce,will be remembered only as the severe
and solemn attestation of my rectitude and truth.
Whatever be tlie language in which that sentence
be spoken, 1 know that my fate will meet with
sympathy and that my memory will be honor¬
ed. In speaking thus, accuse-me not, my lords,
of ap. indecorous presumption. To the efforts
I have made in a j'ust and noble-cause, I ascribe
no vain importance—nor do I claim for those
efforts any high reward.' But it so happens,
and it will ever happen so, that they who have
tried te serve their country, no matter how
weak the effort may have been, are sure to re¬
ceive the thanks and the blessings of its people.
With my country, then, I reave my memory—
my sentiments—my acts—proudly feeling that
they require no vindication from me this day.
A jury of my countrymen, it is- true, have
found me guilty of the "crime of which I stood
indicted. For this I entertain not the slightest
feeling of resentment, toward them. Influ¬
enced as they must have been by the charge
of the Lord Chief Justice, they could have
found np.other verdict. What of that charge?
Any strong observations on it, I feel sincerely,
would ill befit the solemnity of this scene; "but
296
APPENDIX.
I would earnestly beseech of you, my lord—
you, who preside on that bench—when the
passions and the prejudices of this hour have
passed away, to appeal to your conscience, and
ask of it was your charge as it ought to have
been, impartial and indifferent between the sub¬
ject and the -crown. My lords, you may deem
this language unbecoming in me, and perhaps
it may seal rny fate. But I am here to speak
the truth, whatever it may cost. I am here to
regret nothing I have ever done—to retract no¬
thing I have .ever said. I am" here to crave,
"with no lying lip, the life I consecrate to the
liberty of my country. Far from itr even here
—here, where the thief, the libertine, the
murderer, have left their footprints in the dust;
here, on this spot, where the shadows of death
surround me, and from which I see my early
grave in-an unanointed soil opened to receive
me—even here, encircled by these terrors, the
hope which has beckoned me to the perilous
sea upon which I have been wrecked, still con¬
soles, animates, enraptures me. No, I do not
despair of my poor old country, her peace, her
liberty," her glory. For that country I can do
no more than bid her hope. To lift this is¬
land up—to make her a benefactor to humani-
APPENDIX.
297
ty, instead of being the meanest beggar in the
world-—to restore to her her native powers and
her ancient constitution—this has been my
ambition, and this ambition has been my
crime. Judged by the law of England, I know
this crime entails the penalty of death \ but the
history of Ireland explains this crime, and jus¬
tifies it. Judged by that history, I am no
criminal—you (addressing Mr. -M'Manus) are
no criminal—you (addressing Mr. Donohoe)
are no criminal—I deserve"" no punishment-
we deserve no punishment. Judged by that
history, the treason of which I -stand convicted
loses all its guilt, is sanctified as a duty, will
be ennobled as a..sacrifice. With these senti¬
ments, my lord, I await the sentence of the
Court Having done what I felt to be my
duty—having 'spoken what I felt to' b^ tfie
truth, as I have done 'on every other occasion
of my short career, I now bid farewell to the
country of my birth, my passion, and my death
—the country, whose misfortunes have invok¬
ed my sympathies—whose factions I have
sought to still—whose intellect I have prompt¬
ed to a lofty* aim—-whose freedom has been my
fatal dream. I offer to that country, as a proof
of the" love I bear her, and the sincerity with
2-38 APPEM5IX.
which I thought, and spoke, and struggled for
her freedom—the life of a young heart, and
with that life,, all the hopes, the honors, the
endearments, of a happy and an honorable
home. Pronounce then, my lords, the sen¬
tence which the law directs, and I will be pre*
pared to hear it. I trust I shall be prepared to
-meet its execution. I hope to be able, with a
pure heart and perfect composure, to appear be¬
fore a higher tribunal—*a tribunal "where a
Judge of infinite goodness, as well as of justice,
will preside, "and where, my lords, many—■
many of the judgments of this world will be
reversed."
The sentence of the Court was then pro¬
nounced, as it had been previously on Mr-
O'Brien. It was in the following words:
" That sentence is, that you Terence BeJleW
M'Manus, you Patrick O'Donohoe, and you
Thomas Francis Meagher, be taken hence to
the place from whence you came, and be
thence drawn on a hurdle to the place of exe¬
cution ; that each of you be there hanged by
the neck until you are dead, and that afterward
the head'of each of you shall be severed from
the body, and the body of each divided into
four quarters, to be disposed of as her Majesty
APPENDIX 399
may think fit. And may Almighty God have
mercy upon your souls."
A writ of error was sued out principally on
the ground that the principles of constitutional
law were violated. The House of Lords final¬
ly quashed the error and confirmed the judg¬
ment. Meantime, the country, or a great pon*
tion of the people, took the last step in the
direction of debasement, by praying the Q,ueen
and Jthe Lord Lieutenant for a free pardon.
The petitions were spurned; but her Majesty,
yielding to the powerful sentiment of abhor¬
rence againt the punishment of death for politi¬
cal offences commuted the sentence into trans¬
portation for life. This final sentence was
carried into effect on the 9th day of July, 1849, *
when the ship of war " Swift" spread her sails
and hoisted her felon flag, bearing out to sea,
and having on board the four illustrious exiles.
Martin and O'Doherty had been conveyed
to Cork on board the Triton, on the 16th of
June, whence they were sent to herd with
common malefactors on board the Mount Ste¬
wart" Elphinstope—at the time infested' with,
the plague. This vessel remained off Spike
Island while the cholera was doing its ravages
among her passengers, and finally-put to sea,
goo APPENDIX.
with the patriots and pestilence, a few days
before the departure of the " Swift. "
THE UNTNSCRIBED TOMB OF EMMETT.
" Let ray tomb remain uninscribed, and my memory in oblivion, un¬
til other times and other men Gam do justice to my character."
"Pray tell me," I said, to all old man who stray'd,
Drooping over the grave which his own hands had made,
" Pray tell me' the name of the tenant who sleeps
'Neath yonder lone shad© where the sad willow weeps;
Every stone is engrav'd with the name of the dead.
But yon black slab declares not whose spirit is fled."
In silence he bow'd, then beckon'd me nigh,
Till we stood o'er the grave—then he said with a sigh,
" Yes, they dare not to trace e'en a word on this stone,
To the memory of him who sleeps coldly alone;
He told them—commanded—the lines o'er his grave,
Should never be traced by the hand of a slave I
" He bade them to shade e'en liis-name in the gloom,
Till the morning of freedom should shine on his tomb,
1 When the flag of my country at liberty flies,
•Then—then let my name and my monument rise,'
You see they obey'd him—'tis thirty-three years,
And they still come to moisten his grave with their tears.
"He Was young like yourself, and aspir'd to o'erthrow
The tyrants who fill'd his lov'd island with woe;
They crush'd his bold spirit—this earth was confin'd,
Too scant for the range of his luminous mind."
He paus'd, and the old man went slowly away,
And I felt, as he left me, an impulse to pray.
Grant, Heaven! I may see, ere my own days are done,
A monument rise o'er my country's lost son 1
And oh! proudest task, be it mine to indite
The long-delay'd tribute a freeman must write ;
'Till then shall it3 theme in my breast deeply dwell,
So peace to thy slumbers, dear shade, fare the Well.