t 
 
 / 
 
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 REPORT 
 
 ON 
 
 VISIT TO IRELAND IN THE SUMMER 
 OF 1881: 
 
 By JESSIE CRAIGEN, 
 
 Member of the Delegation of the Democratic Federation. 
 
 
 DUBLIN: 
 
 R. D. WEBB & SON, ABBEY-STREET. 
 
 18 8 2 
 

I ZFjf M. 
 
 3o <7 ,^| 5 
 
 C g4 
 
 PREFATORY REMARKS. 
 
 The statements made in this pamphlet were collected with the 
 greatest possible care. For all of them I obtained corroborating 
 testimony: some have been selected from accounts given by ten 
 or twelve different persons—all agreeing in their accounts. 
 
 With regard to the charge of murder against the police, I see 
 by the newspapers that a policeman has just killed a little girl 
 eight years old by splitting her skull open with the butt end of 
 his gUn; that verdicts of murder against the police have been 
 '> found by coroner’s juries in several cases; that, in all cases, the 
 ] government is quashing the verdicts, and refusing to allow the 
 cases to come to trial, while in one case at least, several 
 of the witnesses against the police were arrested immediately 
 under the Coercion Act. If the government is really desirous of 
 inspiring the Irish people with a respect for law and order by 
 'Stern and even-handed justice, why are these cases not allowed 
 to come to triaU A law which is manipulated in the interest of 
 one class only, and used as a shield for government oppression, 
 can only inspire contempt for law and hatred of English rule. 
 
 But these abuses are the fruit of a centralized police ; and till 
 this is abolished there is no hope that peace can ever be really 
 established in Ireland. For my remarks on this subject, I wish 
 to acknowledge my obligations to Mrs. Josephine Butler’s work 
 on Government by Police, from which I have drawn the greater 
 part of my introductory remarks on that subject, and which 
 ought to be in the hands of every English man and woman. 
 
 J. C. 
 
 March, 1882 . 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introductory, . . . . . .5 
 
 The Land Question, ..... 6 
 
 The Coercion Act, . . . . . .30 
 
 The Police, . . , . 34 
 
 Concluding Remarks, 
 
 5 9 
 
REPORT ON A VISIT TO IRELAND. 
 
 “The rights of man must everywhere, all the world over, be recognized—and 
 respected, and religiously watched over, and courageously defended; to do this is 
 the audible call of God, now addressed to the British people.”— Isaac Taylor. 
 
 “ There is no creature in the world so ready as the Englishman to destroy, 
 to enslave, to domineer, and to grow fat, upon the destruction of the weaker 
 human beings whom he has subjected to his bold and iron will. But, together 
 with this development towards evil, there has been in our country a counter¬ 
 development—moral faith is still strong among us, especially in certain sections of 
 society.’’— Mrs. Josephine Butler. 
 
 This report ought to have been written some time ago. It was 
 delayed by illness, and by the feeling that nothing I could write 
 would be of so much value as my spoken testimony, which caused 
 me to hold back my power, and husband my little strength for 
 public meetings. In September I wrote a large part of it. I had 
 a bad attack of illness, during which the sheets were left about 
 and got destroyed. It was then again delayed by illness and 
 other causes, and for some time past I had abandoned the thought 
 of writing it, under the impression that it had been so long 
 delayed, that it was now too late for it to be of any value. 
 
 I have just received an intimation that it would still be thought 
 of use. I felt glad when I heard this, as the thing lay upon my 
 mind as a duty unfulfilled, and I rejoiced at finding it was still 
 not too late for its performance. I attach but small value to it: 
 I am not gifted with literary power. I am a speaker, not a 
 writer. Still I knew it was expected of me, and was sorry that 
 I had (as I thought) let the time slip for writing it. I am 
 glad it is not yet too late. 
 
 In June last I accepted my place as a member of the delega¬ 
 tion sent by the Democratic Federation to Ireland. In going I 
 was bound by no instructions, tied by no party, nor in the least 
 required to fit in my utterance on my return to any foregone con¬ 
 clusions. My only instructions were to go to Ireland, to see and 
 
— 6 — 
 
 hear all that I could of the condition of the masses of the 
 people, and to come back and tell it faithfully—which to the 
 best of my ability I have done, both in public meetings, and 
 also in the less important form of this report. 
 
 I was during my stay the guest of the Ladies’ Land League; 
 and I have to record with pleasure and grateful remembrance 
 the kindness I received from Mrs. Lynch and her daughters. 
 Mrs. O’Keilly, Miss Hodnett, and Miss Kirke, who travelled with 
 me by turns, and from Miss Anna Parnell. Especially I desire 
 to speak of Miss Parnell and Miss Kirke, to thank them for the 
 sisterly tenderness with which they treated me during a short 
 but severe attack of illness which I had in Limerick. Miss 
 Parnell occupied a room next to my own, and devoted to me an 
 amount of time and care which she could ill spare from her 
 heavy work. I desire publicly to thank her for her womanly 
 tenderness to a complete stranger, as I was to her. But in return 
 for this kindness they never claimed in the slightest degree any 
 authority over my judgment, or attempted to persuade me to any 
 particular conclusion, or offered even a hint of the most distant 
 kind as to what I should say, or what line I should take. At 
 the frequent public meetings I was obliged to address, I was left 
 entirely free. 
 
 I think it will be best to give the results of my tour not in 
 the form of a connected story of travel, but rather to take the 
 three important points on which I have to speak, and to deal 
 with each separately. These are—(1) The Land Question; (2) 
 The Coercion Act; (3) The Police. 
 
 I. The Land Question. 
 
 The soil of Ireland generally is in the possession of those 
 whose predecessors in title gained it by grants made after the 
 confiscations that followed unsuccessful struggles for Irish liberty, 
 and who regarded the unfortunate tillers of the soil as so many 
 slaves of an inferior race, bound to cultivate the earth for the sole 
 benefit of their masters. The Land Question is thus, though often 
 
— 7 — 
 
 very difficult to master in its details, yet exceedingly simple in 
 its first principles. The mode of letting land is often complicated. 
 It is often sublet several times, each inferior tenant exacting a 
 tribute in the shape of an increase of rent from the one next below 
 him, the whole weight of which of course falls on the actual 
 cultivator. But whether this is the case or not, the general rule 
 is to exact from the farmer the utmost penny that can be screwed 
 out of his fears or love of home, leaving himself and his family 
 in a state of destitution such as I should judge can have no 
 parallel in any country calling itself civilized (except, perhaps, 
 in India, also under English rule.) 
 
 The ordinary food of the small farmers in the mountain districts 
 of Cork, in County Clare, and in County Limerick, and generally 
 throughout the south and west of Ireland, is indian-corn-meal boiled 
 into a sort of hard, heavy porridge. Oatmeal porridge is largely 
 eaten in Scotland, but always in change with other diet. Scones, 
 oat cake, cheese, butter, broth made of meat boiled with barley, 
 milk, tea, sugar, and small beer, etc., form the ordinary living 
 of the Scottish peasant; but the small Irish farmer has no such 
 variety. The hard, heavy indian-meal porridge is eaten without 
 flavouring; no milk, sugar, or small beer are poured on it (as they 
 are on the Scottish labourer’s morning diet). This stuff is taken 
 without anything with it except salt, and in many cases I found 
 they could not even afford to purchase salt; and in one or two 
 instances the children had been out to gather nettles by the road 
 side to boil them with the heavy insipid mess to give it some 
 sort of flavour. This miserable stuff, taken three times a day— 
 in the morning, at midday, and at night—with sometimes a little 
 of the sour milk left from making the butter, is the sole support 
 of the peasant farmers. The only change they know is that they 
 get potatoes instead of indian porridge while the potatoes last, 
 which is only a few months in the year. And in some of the 
 less distressed districts they get a little bread made of indian- 
 meal, or indian-meal and wheaten flour mixed, and tea on a 
 Sunday morning (or in some cases two or three times a week)— 
 tea which is taken without sugar or cream. Meat, perhaps, twice 
 or thrice a year, or perhaps only once. A pig’s cheek at Christ- 
 
— 8 — 
 
 mas is often the only meat they see during the year; and if they 
 can get a bit of American bacon at Easter in addition, it is an 
 exceptional indulgence. They never touch their own eggs. These 
 are sold to the dealers for the markets at the rate of 6d. per 
 dozen. They never eat their own butter—never taste their own 
 cream or sweet milk. All is sold to pay the rent. I do not 
 wonder that the Irish peasant rises in fury against the very name 
 of rent, for rent in Ireland is often only an exchangeable word 
 for starvation, oppression, robbery, and slow murder. I do not 
 for a moment mean to say that this description applies to all the 
 farmers. I am speaking of the peasant farmers holding little farms 
 of from five and six, to twenty-five or thirty acres. There are, 
 of course, others holding larger farms, and living in a somewhat 
 better manner; but to these the same principle still applies. 
 They may have meat once or twice a week, and the higher class 
 of farmers may keep what we in England should call a fairly 
 good table. But to all the same system is applied. They take a 
 farm and do everything to it—build the house they live in, 
 stables, outhouses, barns; drain, improve, make fences and gates. 
 The landlord does nothing! As fast as the tenant improves, he 
 sends a valuator down and raises the rent to the full sum of the 
 tenant’s improvements. The people live in a constant struggle 
 with bankruptcy, and after spending a life’s labour for the benefit 
 of the landlord, fly to America, or die heart broken by the road¬ 
 side, or in the poor-house, when the struggle with grinding 
 tyranny is over. This has been the system for generations. 
 The tenants have created the value of the country, and the land¬ 
 lords have robbed them of it. 
 
 But there are good landlords! Certainly there are. I went 
 through a large district. I met with one good landlord, and 
 heard of another. I find in my note-book the following state¬ 
 ment, and I give it as affording a reply to the charges against 
 the Land League—that it prevented the tenants from paying 
 rent. I am a witness to the fact that the instructions of the 
 Land League were at that time (June last) to offer the landlords 
 a fair rent—the fair rent being mostly Griffith’s valuation. Mr. 
 Swainton of Ballydehob, County Cork, a very good landlord. 
 
9 — 
 
 Tenants all have their farms at Griffith’s valuation, or under. 
 Tenants mostly very comfortable, rent duly paid. Land tolerably 
 well farmed. No arrears of rent owing on this estate, and no dis¬ 
 putes or evictions on this property for many years past. Several 
 houses in the village also belong to the same landlord, where 
 the people are poor, and he charges them no rent. This case 
 shows (1) that the people will pay a fair rent to a good and 
 reasonable landlord. (But there is no security were he to die, 
 all might be changed.) (2) That the Land League, which was 
 very strong at Ballydehob at that time, and of which most of 
 these farmers were members, did not prevent the people from 
 offering the landlord moderate rents. Most of the other estates 
 at Ballydehob are very much rack-rented. I addressed a crowded 
 Land League meeting at Ballydehob, urged the people to stand 
 firm by the Land League, but to abstain from all acts of violence. 
 Some of them afterwards came to me thanking me. I again 
 urged them to perfectly passive resistance. They said "Yes, we 
 know that is right; Miss Parnell tells us the same thing—to use no 
 violence.” A rock was pointed out to me from which Miss Parnell 
 had addressed a large open air meeting some time previously. 
 
 At Ballydehob I hired a car and visited the surrounding- 
 country. I found the farming class generally in a most desti¬ 
 tute state, though there were exceptions, one of which I give here. 
 Farm of Derrinhard, estate of Mr. J. Hutchinson Swainton 
 (another Swainton and a landlord of a very different character). 
 We drove up to this farm in the gloaming, alighted from the car, 
 and went into a clean, comfortable kitchen, well furnished with 
 household and farming implements. A well dressed young woman 
 received us with much hospitality, and a comfortable-looking 
 servant girl brought us a jug of milk fresh drawn from the cow. 
 Presently the farmer came, took us into a parlour well furnished 
 with a cupboard of glass, centre table, etc. He then produced 
 his books and told the long story of his farm. I took it down 
 from his lips, as follows:—Tenant’s name, Timothy Ryan, holds 
 sixty acres altogether, Griffith’s valuation, £18 12s., rent, £37. 
 (I may notice that generally, though not always, the difference be¬ 
 tween the actual rent and the valuation marks the excess over what 
 
10 — 
 
 the tenant could pay and live.) Farmer is a widower with four 
 children. About eighteen acres of fair land, the rest of it barren 
 rock. The eighteen acres he has himself reclaimed from the hard 
 sterile rock. Stock about 20 head of beasts, taking dry cattle 
 and cows together, 8 to 10 sheep, 3 goats, 8 pigs, 2 horses, about 
 25 hens and 5 geese. Has been in possession of part for twenty- 
 seven years, of all the farm for eighteen years. The house was 
 on the land when the tenant came—tenant has built seven out¬ 
 houses, very good ones, well built and large. All the land was 
 bare rock, when the tenant came. Eighteen acres have been re¬ 
 claimed by him; has drained about twenty-four acres, made a 
 great quantity of fences. For eighteen years has put fourteen 
 boats of sand on every year at 16s. per boat: for nine years before 
 that seven boats of sand per year. Also for the twenty-seven years, 
 has used about seven boats of manure yearly, at about 18s. 
 per boat: has made the reclaimed land very good. Landlord 
 never allowed one shilling for it, but raised the rent as fast as 
 ever the improvements were made. The first rent for the whole 
 place was £22 12s., then raised to £28, then to £37. As the 
 land was improved the rent was raised as a reward for the 
 farmer's industry! 
 
 I add to this the details given me by another farmer on the 
 same estate. Name of tenant, Jeremiah Crowley, of Glenough- 
 keleena. Holds about fifty acres, about ten acres tillable, the 
 rest all barren rock, mere mountain waste, rent £32, Griffith’s 
 valuation £18 15s., the rent was £23 till about nineteen years ago, 
 when Mr. J. H. Swainton came in as middleman, under Mr. Scott; 
 the farm in possession of the family about sixty years. An old 
 dwellinghouse was on the farm when tenant’s father took it. 
 Tenant has almost rebuilt it. He has also built four out¬ 
 buildings, reclaimed about ten acres of land, which he has 
 turned from bare rock into good tillage land. The landlord 
 laid out £9 in drainage, and added £1 10s. per year to 
 the rent for it. That is all he has ever done. Tenant- 
 right at least £100. Stock, 9 cows, 5 dry beasts, 6 sheep, 6 
 goats, 3 pigs; had 3 turkeys, but a fox had stolen them the 
 week before I came. Tenant has a good stock of hens. Food— 
 
— 11 — 
 
 mixed bread, potatoes, sour milk, sometimes fish, never any meat. 
 Never tastes butter or cream: all has to be sold or could not pay 
 rent. Eats an egg now and then, but very rarely. Has a suit of 
 Sunday clothes. This last possession is very rare. Mostly the 
 clothing is what they stand upright in, which they wear by night 
 as well as day, in most cases till it drops off them. 
 
 Yet another case is that of Michael Donavan, on the Cherry 
 property. Holds twenty-five to thirty acres, not above four acres 
 can be tilled, and that is very poor land. All the rest is hard rock. 
 Griffith's valuation £9 15s., rent £24. Tenant rebuilt house, built 
 all the outhouses, and reclaimed the land. Landlord never did 
 anything at any time. In possession of tenant thirty years. Lent 
 was £13, raised to £15, then to £17, then to £24. Last excuse for 
 raising rent was that a copper mine was sought for in the locality. 
 Tenant was letting a man and horse for the mine at 4s. 
 per day. He was told that for this he was to pay more rent. 
 Food, indian-meal which he gets mostly on credit, pays about £1 
 a bag for it; the bag holds 20 stone; 4d. per month interest is 
 charged for the credit on one bag of indian-meal. 
 
 I am giving these cases not by any means as the exceptional and 
 extreme ones, but rather as instances of the generally prevailing- 
 system. The same cruelly false idea that the tenant’s labour is 
 really the landlord’s property prevails in England, but is not so 
 harshly carried out. For instance, such a case as the following 
 could not occur in England. Margaret Shaughnessy, widow, near 
 Limerick; Mr. Samson, landlord; agent, Mr. Berry ; holds twenty- 
 nine acres, of which about three acres will crop, and is now down 
 with one acre potatoes, half an acre oats, an acre and a half of pas¬ 
 ture, which is not rich enough for meadow. Griffith’s valuation 
 £8 10s, rent £15 per year, keeps 3 cows, 2 heifers, 2 calves, 
 2 sheep, 2 goats, 1 pig, 2 dozen of fowl and ducks, 1 donkey, no 
 plough. They do all with the spade. Eight children at home, eldest 
 boy twenty years old, works out for farmers, gets 6s. per week and 
 diet, but in winter earns only 8d. per day and diet. In his spare 
 days and off time he and two girls, twins, fourteen years old, do 
 the work of the farm with the spade. The second boy is deli¬ 
 cate and cannot work on the land. Has been in possession of the 
 
family for three generations (most likely more); the present 
 tenant’s husband succeeded to it more than twenty years ago. 
 Kent was then £12 10s. Six years ago the husband fell ill. 
 Mr. Samson himself asked a rise to £20; tenant refused. Land¬ 
 lord then brought notice of ejectment. Father Bourke of Kilbar 
 employed an attorney; tenant had built house, cow-house, and 
 stable, tenant’s husband also reclaimed three acres from the 
 mountain, dug it, pulled up stones, some of them so big that 
 tenant’s husband told her one day he got six men to help him, 
 and they only got one stone up the whole day. Landlord never 
 allowed anything for this. About twenty years ago landlord 
 planted about two acres of the land on tenant’s farm with trees, 
 mostly larch and fir, and would not allow tenant’s cattle to go on 
 it. When some of the goats strayed in, tenant was fined 6s. 6d. 
 for this straying, though it was tenant’s own land, and the trees 
 were grown up. About a year ago he cut down the timber and 
 sold it. He never reduced the rent for the land thus taken 
 away, and when they remonstrated with him he told them it was 
 all his own land, and he should do as he liked with it. When 
 then some six years back, the £20 was demanded, it seemed so 
 cruel that counsel was employed; proceedings going on, landlord 
 compromised for a rise of £2 10s., making £15, at which it now 
 stands. Two years’ arrears owing here; tenant said she could not 
 pay it, as all her children had had the fever. She had a little relief 
 from the parish priest last year. This house has a bedroom with 
 a window that will open, and a good bed; but the thatch of the 
 house roof is so rotten that the rain comes through. Tenant puts 
 some old coats above her on the bed to sop up the rain as it falls 
 through on her. Tenant complains she can’t keep her house 
 clean, because the rotten thatch keeps falling, and the rain water 
 runs down all over the place. The donkey is stalled in the house 
 at night. Hone of the family have any boots or shoes, all bare¬ 
 footed, and none of them have any other things than those they 
 stand upright in, which they wear night and day. 
 
 I may here remark that the Land Act will be of no use to this 
 poor woman, as the Land Court can only regulate the rent that 
 falls due after the tenant applies to it, consequently the arrears 
 
— 13 — 
 
 that accrued during the three bad harvests are untouched. The 
 fact of the tenant being in arrears does not prevent him from 
 applying to the court, but the landlord can eject him for the 
 arrears pending the hearing of his case , and after the rent is fixed: 
 so that practically the tenants in arrears are cut off from the 
 benefits of the Land Act, as if they apply to the court they can 
 be turned out and robbed of the fruit of their hard labour which 
 they have invested in their farms, for the arrears which they cannot 
 pay. Out of about 600,000 tenant-farmers in Ireland, there are 
 about 100,000 that cannot by any means pay up their arrears, 
 and about another 100,000, probably, who could pay arrears by 
 a great struggle, but who would greatly cripple themselves, and 
 altogether impair their chances of being able to work their farms 
 afterwards. Surely an Act which thus excludes from its benefits 
 nearly a third of the farmers of Ireland, and those the ones 
 most sorely in need of it, cannot be considered as a satisfactory 
 piece of legislation. 
 
 But a gentleman said to me after I had urged this in a public 
 meeting. They can claim compensation under the Land Act of 
 1870. The fact is that that Act, as far as its benefits to the 
 tenants are concerned, seems almost to be a dead letter. It has 
 to be worked by courts in which those who sit are landlords, or 
 in the landlord interest. The people have not in most cases the 
 means to apply to these courts, as to go into a court, a lawyer 
 must be employed. Lawyers will not work without money, 
 and these poor people have no money. 
 
 I give the following case which is from the Kingston estate. 
 The Kingston estate was highly spoken of by The Daily Telegraph 
 as one on which the tenants were so very well off. The fact is 
 that one of the Kingstons, some years ago, being in great distress 
 for money, offered leases for a long term of years to such of his 
 tenants as would pay a year’s rent in advance. Several availed 
 themselves of the offer; and albeit the rents are high, and the 
 covenants of the leases very harsh in some directions, yet these 
 farmers continue on the whole to farm their land well, and give 
 their homes an appearance of general prosperity quite uncom¬ 
 mon. I visited several of these farms: one old man, carrying 
 
— 14 — 
 
 his little grandchild in his arms, showed me with pride his nice 
 bedrooms, made by putting boarded roofs to the lower rooms 
 which served as the flooring for upper chambers made like lofts 
 in the roof, and furnished with nice beds covered with white 
 quilts, all beautifully clean. I found that here as elsewhere, 
 where the smallest advantage is given to the people, the least 
 foothold of security in the enjoyment of the fruit of their labour 
 afforded to them, they are intensely anxious to get on, and 
 unsparing in their efforts to better their condition. 
 
 I saw a few little places which had been bought under the 
 Bright clauses of the Land Act of 1870, and a few places here 
 and there where the people held farms on leases which admitted 
 of possible existence. Nothing could be more touching than the 
 efforts made in these cases to make the houses more comfortable. 
 Little flower gardens outside the houses, white curtains to the 
 windows and beds, and pictures for the walls, a dresser with 
 rows of clean and shining pots set in neat order—marked in 
 such cases the relief from the grinding system of tyranny which 
 mostly prevails. So it was here: the long lease men on the 
 Kingston estate form no exception to the general rule; their 
 hemes have the appearance of comfort, their farms are well 
 attended to. And these, I was told, the correspondent of The 
 Daily Telegraph had visited. I think he could not have seen 
 the tenants-at-will, for amongst these the misery and distress 
 were simply awful to behold. The following case at once shows 
 the condition of some of the tenants-at-will, and illustrates my 
 remark as to the actual failure of the Land Act of 1870 to give 
 any certainty of compensation to tenants for the loss of their 
 property. 
 
 Patrick Conden, of Mitchelstown, was evicted on the 26th of 
 May, 1880, for one year’s rent (£12 5s.) for twelve acres of 
 ground; Griffith’s valuation, £9 5s. The rent fell due on the 
 25th of March, 1880—a decree had been taken out on the 26th 
 of April; eviction took place on the 26th of May; land in 
 possession of the same family for many generations; tenant 
 thinks his family have been on the land for from three hundred 
 to four hundred years. All the reclamation of the land, from 
 
15 — 
 
 the surrounding barren soil, the building of house and out¬ 
 buildings—all tenant’s work; no assistance whatever from 
 landlord at any time. Present house built by tenant’s father or 
 grandfather. Tenant was offered £160 for his tenant-right 
 about the time of the eviction; was not allowed to sell it. Mr. 
 O’Mahony would not agree to the sale, and the tenant was 
 evicted for £12 5s. They lived all the winter, seven in family, 
 in an outbuilding with no window, about eight feet wide by 
 eight feet long. Has gone into the house again under the shel¬ 
 ter of the Land League. Has one hen, all the stock he has left; 
 no furniture at all in the house except a bag of straw and some 
 rags raised on stones in the bedroom; one old chair and a few 
 broken pots on a hen coop. The family supper was preparing 
 when I was there—a little sour milk in a pan, a few mountain 
 potatoes in a pot. The landlord let last year’s grass for £2. 
 Tenant used to carry goods between Fermoy and Mitchelstown, 
 and pay the rent partly out of that, for the land did not yield it. 
 This appears to be very frequently the case. 
 
 Next to this place I visited another farm on the Kingston 
 estate; this account is that of one of the leases of which I first 
 spoke, which I quote in answer to the often repeated statement 
 that the Irish will not work. They will work whenever they get 
 the chance. 
 
 Widow Conden, Kingston estate, lease of 1867. House quite 
 comfortable, parlour with boarded top and floor, and nice furni¬ 
 ture, excellent outbuildings. Farm twenty-eight acres. Griffith’s 
 valuation, £47; rent, £53. Land supposed to have been in 
 possession of the family for three hundred years. The lease has 
 stringent covenants; but seeing she could keep the place she has 
 worked hard to improve it. She has four children. The living 
 is indian-meal, porridge and sour milk. No meat eaten, except 
 that she buys a pig’s cheek about four times a year. Children 
 poorly clad; cannot afford to buy more clothes. They wear 
 boots in winter but not in summer. This woman works very 
 hard indeed. 
 
 Of course I only profess to give the tenants’ side of these 
 stories; but I did my best to get at impartial truth by cross- 
 
16 — 
 
 questioning and sifting the statements of the speakers, and 
 comparing one tale with another. I saw the buildings, the state 
 of the houses, the crops on the land, the receipts for rent and 
 manure, and other things purchased; and of the general results 
 of the system I describe there is no doubt whatever. 
 
 Near this farm I visited the cottage of a labourer’s widow— 
 widow Boche. Husband was a labourer, died eio-ht months 
 ago. Cottage one room, about twelve feet by eight, thatched 
 roof, pane of glass in wall, which does not open. Furniture two 
 stools and an old bedstead, with some rags on it. In one corner 
 a clutch of chickens in an old box. The woman works from 
 six in the morning till six at night for sixpence a day. Has to 
 cut furze after her work is done, to serve as fuel. She is too 
 poor to buy coals. 
 
 I give another case from the Kingston estate which illustrates 
 the petty tyranny of the system. Widow O’Donnell, holding- 
 sixty acres; rent £80. Landlord has never done anything. 
 House on land when she came. She built an out-house (which 
 would be the landlord’s property). She cut down a tree for that 
 purpose. The tree was taken away: she was fined £2 for cutting 
 it, and 10s. attorney’s fees. Mr. O’Mahony, the agent, said he 
 could transport her son for twenty years for doing it. She had 
 built several outhouses herself, and was short of means to buy 
 timber. Was much frightened at the agent’s threat. 
 
 We then went on to the Buckley estate, on which the people were 
 all evidently pinched and drawn with sheer starvation. There was 
 no mistake about it; nearly every sinew and bone was perceptible 
 under the drawn faces of these hungry creatures. The state of 
 the homes is shocking. The following is a fair description, not 
 only of the one home to which it applies, but of most of the others. 
 Tim Gorman holds four and a-lialf Irish acres, which have been 
 in possession of the family for generations. Bent, £3; was £1 4s 
 till about three years ago. Three acres and a bit down in pota¬ 
 toes ; rest mere rock and furze, run for stock. Keeps one cow 
 and some poultry. Furze the only fuel. Food—indian-meal and 
 sour milk. Thatch rotten and in holes; rain water runs in 
 everywhere through the rotten thatch, creating a bad smell, and 
 
— 17 — 
 
 making pools on the earthen floor. A sick child lay on the 
 ground in the chimney of the bedroom in a sort of litter of 
 rotten straw. In this room are two wooden bedsteads; in one 
 sleep seven children on straw, with no covering but their own 
 clothes, which they wear day and night. On the other, man and 
 wife in the same condition. The land on the estate is hard to 
 work, mere rock, with stones as big as a large chest. They dig up 
 the stones with crowbars. If the tenant cuts a bit of furze from 
 the common, away from his own ground to put into the manure 
 pond, he is fined. Landlord will do nothing, nor allow the smallest 
 help for the reclamation. Directly the land is reclaimed the rent 
 is raised. On the farm of James Hyland there is a piece of land 
 of about two acres; thirty men, neighbours, out of kindness, 
 were two days at work digging up the stones. The field is now 
 a whole mass of stones, which it will take the tenant a long time 
 to remove. It would take twelve horses and thirty men a week 
 to clear them and cart them away. Directly the field is re¬ 
 claimed the rent will be raised, as is done in such cases. 
 
 I go on now to quote two or three cases from quite another 
 portion of the country (County Clare and the estate of Colonel 
 John O’Callaghan). First take the case of Michael Hussey. 
 Holds under Colonel O'Callaghan twenty acres ; about ten acres 
 can be tilled, the rest is a mere swamp. No turf that can be 
 cut for fuel. Bent £40, Griffith’s valuation £18. Tenant built 
 thatched dwelling-house of two rooms, cow-house, stable, barn, and 
 pig-sty. Has drained five acres of land, made many fences, etc. 
 He took the land in the year 1850, at £16 per year. In 1854 
 got a rise of £5, in 1856 another rise of £5, in the year 1860 a 
 rise of £5 more, in the year 1865 a rise of £5 more, in 1872 
 was risen to £40. As he built and reclaimed, the rent was 
 raised on him. Is now nearly two years in arrears. One of his 
 boys died through hard labour in draining the swamp. 
 
 Another of Colonel O’Callaghan’s tenants is Patrick Kieff, 
 Knockbrae. Holds twenty-one acres; about seven acres can be 
 tilled, the rest mere mountain land. Bent, £30; Griffith’s valua¬ 
 tion is £13 6s. In possession of the family for many generations. 
 First rent tenant remembers to have paid was £13. Tenant has 
 
 B 
 
— 18 — 
 
 drained the bogs and wild places never drained before. Drained 
 about six acres of a boggy place with his own work and that of bis 
 five sons. They used to go to Doonas, eighteen miles off, to bring a 
 load of lime, and work all day after being on the road all night. 
 One of tenant’s sons hurt himself raising the big stones out of the 
 land, and died within four days after. Tenant has made fences, 
 built cow-house and stable. The dwelling-house was built by 
 his father or grandfather. Could not possibly say what value 
 tenant’s family have put into the land. They have worked at 
 reclaiming it from generation to generation. Thirteen years ago 
 tenant had a rise of £11, making it £30. Some of the land 
 would not keep a goat it is so bad. Has of stock 3 cows, 1 calf, 
 2 yearlings, 1 horse, 1 donkey. 
 
 One more case under the same landlord. Mrs. Margaret 
 Clonmoher holds thirty-two acres: four and a-half acres tillage, 
 seven acres meadow, the rest grazing land. Griffith’s valuation 
 £30; rent £83. Tenant and her husband came on in the year 
 1860, at £30 per year. Tenant drained four or five acres of bog 
 at about £4 per acre; manured land; built a dwelling-house that 
 cost them £100. Directly the house was built, the landlord 
 raised the rent at one bound from £30 to £83, calculating 
 on the tender nature of the people, who cling to the places they 
 build. They could not pay the exorbitant rent. Husband 
 fretted himself mad, and died so in 1873, after a long struggle 
 with ruin, leaving a widow with six children. She has struggled 
 on, but owes two years and a half of arrears. Could not live 
 at all but she holds seven acres of fair land at £7 a year 
 of Major Gore, on which she makes a little profit. She is quite 
 satisfied with that rent, is willing to pay it, owes no arrears at 
 all on that. 
 
 But it will be said why do the people pay these rents ? Why 
 submit to this oppression? Why not leave it? Here we strike 
 on one of the differences between the English and Irish nation 
 —a difference which is intensified by circumstances—for where 
 are these people to go to? It must be remembered that (except 
 in Ulster) there are no manufactures. Irish manufactures were 
 crushed out of being by English greed and tyranny. The Irish 
 
— 19 
 
 peasant, if turned out of his little holding, must die by the road 
 side, or creep into the poor-house, or emigrate; and this last 
 alternative seems like to them a living death, for they love the 
 land they till with passionate affection; the tender clinging 
 nature of the people roots itself into the ground, binds itself to 
 every tree and stone with the fibres and tendrils of the heart; to 
 be expatriated, is to live a life which is one long yearning of 
 desire to see the green fields of their own land again. 
 
 I found a woman on the Galtee mountains living in a wretched 
 cabin, in a stony wilderness, hundreds of feet above the level of 
 the sea. I discovered, in conversation, that she had friends in 
 America, and had been there with them, in comfort and pros¬ 
 perity, and had left them to make her way back to Ireland. 
 This seemed so strange to me, that I asked her what could have 
 induced her to come back, to leave good friends and a comfortable 
 home, and return to such a place as that I found her in? The 
 woman took both my hands in hers, and looked into my face 
 as though she was begging of me with her eyes, to try to under¬ 
 stand her:—“Oh, sure,” she said, “I pined the heart out of me for 
 Ireland.” 
 
 I went in another place into a farmer’s house, and he read 
 me his lease, a long lease with tyrannical covenants at an 
 impossible rent, and he showed his books, and reckoned what 
 he sold his produce at, and we came to the conclusion that the 
 farm could not be worked to a profit. I said to him, what could 
 induce you to take such a farm at such a rent? and he replied, 
 with a sad smile, “Sure it was better than going over the waves 
 of the wide world.” The people love the land they have created 
 by their labour, as though it were a living thing; they cling to it 
 with the desperate agony of bereaved affection. To be torn 
 from the little plot of ground they have created out of a swamp, 
 or on the hard surface of a rock, breaks up their nature into 
 confused anguish, such as the hard, cold stubborn English 
 temperament can make no allowance for, because it is utterly 
 outside its own experience. When will English people learn 
 that their’s is not the only national character in the world ? 
 They apply their own standard to other races. In their obstinate 
 
 b* 
 
— 20 — 
 
 egotism, they pass judgment on all that are not like themselves; 
 they violate the first conditions of humanity in those whose 
 feelings they do not understand, and then complain of the 
 disordered passions they have called forth. They lay an iron 
 hand on the mainspring of a watch, and then wonder that it 
 does not keep true time. They crush the heart of the Irish 
 peasant in their senseless determination to make a totally 
 different race of people work and live under their own con¬ 
 ditions, and complain that the despair and anguish they create 
 break out in violence. And wiseacres in England sit down and 
 talk about the Land League organizing murder. It is to the 
 very best of my belief a barefaced falsehood. The Land League 
 when I was there was keeping the peace. The real organizers of 
 murder in Ireland are rack-renting landlords, a murderous 
 police, and a despotic ministry. Mr. Gladstone himself said an 
 eviction is a sentence of death. He has lived to pass a Coercion 
 Act, under the shelter of which more than a thousand such 
 sentences have been carried out. The men who are responsible 
 for the wholesale slaughter of these evictions are the real 
 organizers of murder. Tyranny provokes the retaliation of 
 brutal crime; the oppressive writ is answered by the midnight 
 shot; outraged human nature is the cause of violence; broken 
 hearts fester into crime. If the subject were not so serious, how 
 intensely ridiculous is the idea that a man who has been robbed 
 of the labour of his life, who has seen his boys die before his 
 eyes of hard work in grubbing stones, as the two farmers whom 
 I visited had done, whose sick wife has died in a ditch by the 
 roadside—how absurd is the idea that such a man never thinks 
 himself wronged, never dreams of revenge till he hears a speech 
 from Mr. Parnell or somebody else; and then it occurs to him 
 for the first time, that he really has been badly used, and that 
 it would be a fine thing to shoot somebody, so he forthwith 
 does a murder. Yet this is really the belief of thousands of 
 English people, who actually fancy that a crime which is the 
 outcome of a lifetime of suppressed anguish and bitter brooding 
 over wrong and insult, is begotten by a man’s listening to half 
 an hour’s excited oratory! 
 
— 21 — 
 
 Let it not be supposed that I am in any way excusing murder. 
 I am not I hold it in abhorrence. The Eternal Law forbids 
 that man, under any provocation, should raise his hand against 
 his fellow. The crime of the midnight assassin is very hateful; 
 but still more hateful is the oppression which from the height of 
 its power swoops down upon the poor, sanctifying its own act of 
 murder with the name of law, and branding as criminal the fierce, 
 passionate outbreak of the poor desperate soul it has provoked. 
 
 I am a witness to the fact that in many Land League meet¬ 
 ings I heard the most earnest appeals made to the people to 
 keep the peace, not to be guilty of acts of violence. Also in meet¬ 
 ings which could not have been foreseen, the spontaneous gather¬ 
 ings of the people in the open air, in villages through which I 
 passed I addressed the people, always urging abstinence from 
 violence, and many would come to me afterwards saying, “ That 
 is right, we know; we are sure that will be best. Mr. Parnell 
 and Miss Parnell always tell us so.” 
 
 It is also a fact within my own knowledge that Mr. O’Neil, 
 the leader of the Cork Land League, was violently attacked 
 by the police when attending an eviction for the express purpose 
 of keeping the people quiet, and when the crowd showed signs 
 of resistance his imploring cries to them to keep quiet lest 
 they should provoke the police to fall on them, were heard by all 
 near. 
 
 In the next place, it is a fact that in the years 1880 and 1881, 
 during the power of the Land League, murders were fewer than 
 they had been for a long time. In the year 1880 there were only 
 69 murders in all Ireland, whereas the usual number is about 
 170-180 per annum. I have not the figures for 1881, but up to 
 the arrest of Mr. Parnell the number was extremely small. 
 
 Since the proclamation of the Land League there are murders 
 constantly reported—that is if the newspaper reports are to be 
 trusted; but the country has been driven almost into a state of 
 civil war by the despotic measures of the Government. The 
 outrages of which so much stock has been made were cases 
 of boycotting and personal insult, also maiming of cattle. With 
 regard to the last it is an utterly disgraceful proceeding, wrong 
 
99 
 
 and cruel in the extreme. I cannot defend it, but see not any 
 proof that has ever been given that it is in any way to be attri¬ 
 buted to the Land League. It is to be remembered that there is 
 a chronic war between landlord and tenant. Outrages are always 
 going on. The constant appeals of the Land League organizers 
 to the people to abstain from violence may have led to some 
 abstaining from murder in obedience to the Land League, yet 
 gratifying their feelings of revenge by the less terrible outrages 
 on the dumb brutes whose very helplessness and innocence should 
 have been their protection. I should like to see proof before these 
 acts are attributed to the Land League. 
 
 I think it very likely that in many “ constantly reported ” 
 cases, the owners themselves are the guilty parties. In two or 
 three cases which came under my own eyes the animals destroyed 
 were very old and poor, and the owners claimed compensation 
 for good ones. To be able to get the price of a good beast by 
 maiming an inferior one, and so to make a gain which the ordi¬ 
 nary market price would not give, is a great temptation to persons 
 without principle. 
 
 With regard to boycotting the case is different. I believe 
 that is an acknowledged weapon of the League; and I can only 
 say that I feel it to be justified in view of the merciless oppression 
 it was intended to check, and did check—for the boycotting of 
 1880 almost put an end to evictions, which were practically 
 almost suspended until the Coercion Act was passed. 
 
 I close now this part of my Beport. The cases I have given 
 are only a few out of a very large number that I collected, 
 the general result being the conviction in my mind that the 
 tenants were constantly and habitually robbed by the landlords 
 in the most cruel manner—that the Land Act of 1870 was almost 
 a dead letter, and that where it was applied, to allow a landlord 
 to rob a tenant of the fruit of his industry, and enable the tenant 
 to employ a lawyer to get compensation, was just like allowing a 
 thief to come into your house, to knock you down and take away 
 your watch and rings, and then telling you to be quite satisfied 
 because you have the privilege of bringing a law-suit against the 
 robber for their recovery. 
 
— 23 
 
 But, it will be asked, why dwell on these matters ? Mr. Bright 
 says the Land Question is settled. 
 
 I protest as a free citizen, claiming the rights of freedom for 
 others as well as for myself, against the assumption that any 
 question can be settled by England for Ireland against the wishes, 
 or even without the sanction merely, of the people of that country. 
 I protest against Mr. Bright’s doctrine of representation by popu¬ 
 lation as applied to the case of a small and separate country dif¬ 
 fering from England in the conditions of its existence, inhabited 
 by a people of a different race, of habits alien to our own, and of 
 a faith which we do not largely profess. Representation by popu¬ 
 lation is well enough where the population so represented is, 
 within moderate limits, one nationality, or even, as in the case 
 of Scotland, a separate nationality sufficiently allied in blood and 
 thought to be in fairly full sympathy with the larger body with 
 which it is incorporated; but where the smaller section so repre¬ 
 sented is alien in sympathy to the larger, the result is a tyranny 
 of the majority in the House over the minority, and of the more 
 populous nation over the less populous, which is all the more 
 galling as it assumes the appearance of outward fairness. There 
 is no oppression which fires the blood of those who suffer like 
 that which puts on the mask of justice. The Irish Land Ques¬ 
 tion is not settled. Working men, do not believe it. It never 
 will be settled till the Irish people themselves settle it. I have 
 loved and honoured Mr. Bright above all living statesmen. I 
 cannot express the pain with which I have read the speech by 
 which he has clouded the close of a life which had been so 
 great and glorious. England has about 500 members in the House; 
 Ireland not 100. What power of self-government has Ireland ? 
 One hundred voting against a majority of 500, who can carry 
 any question against the Irish members by a swamping majority 
 of votes. If all Ireland desired a certain thing—if every Irish 
 member voted for it, yet England being against it, it could 
 not be carried. The English votes would swamp the Irish 
 votes and drown the chance of justice. The same thing is held 
 of Scotland; but practically Scotch people do not come into 
 
— 24 — 
 
 collision with English people. Scotland and England mainly 
 wish the same things. 
 
 Ireland and England do not wish the same things. Therefore 
 Ireland has no chance of justice in any matter in which her 
 wishes are opposed to those of England. The only remedy is— 
 her own Parliament on her own soil. Then the Land Question 
 may be settled, but not before. 
 
 Apart from this broad view of justice, we have before us the 
 stubborn fact that the Land Act has not pacified Ireland, and does 
 not seem likely to do so. For which I should assign the follow¬ 
 ing reasons:—First, the Irish people did not ask for the Land 
 Act. It was not at all what they demanded or desired, and I 
 cannot help wondering when I see in a responsible English 
 newspaper such a sentence as the following:—“ In general, agita¬ 
 tions are at an end when the thing asked for is attained; but the 
 Irish people have got what they asked for and are not contented.” 
 The extreme ignorance of the wishes and feelings of the Irish 
 people that is manifested in such a statement as this is alarming 
 when we remember that the public opinion of England is formed 
 by such misrepresentations. 
 
 As a fact, the demands of the Irish people were two in number, 
 As put forth on the little green programme of the Land League, 
 which, when I was in Ireland, were to be seen in every house— 
 firstly, they demanded a large and comprehensive scheme for the 
 establishment of a peasant proprietary; secondly, they asked tor 
 Home Rule—that is the power of making their own laws for 
 for themselves. 
 
 Clearly, therefore, they regard the Land Act as simply an at¬ 
 tempt on the part of the more subtle and clear-headed of our 
 aristocratic and capitalist classes to put them off with something 
 which is much less than they ask for and have a right to obtain. 
 In fact, it is just as if an importunate creditor, to whom a large 
 sum is owing, should be put off with a small instalment. 
 
 The Irish people from generation to generation have made the 
 soil of Ireland, absolutely made it out of bog and swamp and on 
 the surface of barren rock, and they have that just right to it 
 that labour has to the fruits of its own toil, bating the natural 
 
— 25 — 
 
 space and acreage of the ground, which really is the property of 
 the State, for the benefit of the whole people, and should as fast 
 as is possible be resumed by the State, with just care to compen¬ 
 sate and inflict no needless hardship on those whom the State 
 has allowed to become owners. 
 
 The Land Act offers the people a very acceptable, but, on the 
 whole, a comparatively small compromise which is forced on them 
 by a Coercion Act of extreme severity and by police outrages of 
 which I have still to speak. The debtor knocks the creditor 
 down, holds a pistol to his head, and offers him 2s. in the pound. 
 Naturally this is not satisfactory. 
 
 The principles embodied in the Land Act certainly give a large 
 measure of reform, but they do not go far enough for the occa¬ 
 sion, and the machinery of the Act is totally defective. 
 
 The Land Court is simply a court of arbitration, with power to 
 enforce its decisions as law. Now, any court of arbitration be¬ 
 tween two contending parties, to be at all a satisfactory or just 
 institution, should be appointed by the mutual consent of both; 
 or at any rate the disputants on each side should nominate the 
 arbitrators in equal proportion. By the Land Act the appoint¬ 
 ment of the judges is entirely in the hands of the English Govern¬ 
 ment—that is, of the landlord class. 
 
 The English Earmers’ Alliance, in drafting a Land Bill for 
 England, strikes this blot at once, for their suggestion is that the 
 Land Court shall be partially elected by the ratepayers or by the 
 board of guardians for the district. Give to the Irish people the 
 power of electing some of the members of the Land Commission, 
 and the Land Act would bear the appearance of an honest attempt 
 to do justice. As it is it does not bear that appearance. I do not 
 say it is not honest attempt to do justice, for that would be to 
 judge the inward motives of those who passed it, which we have 
 no right to do—I only say it does not look like that. It looks 
 like an effort on the part of the rulers of Ireland and England to 
 grant something that shall quiet agitation in Ireland, by conces¬ 
 sions (which, being left to the Court to define, can be made more 
 or less according to circumstances) that shall satisfy the English 
 demand that something shall be done for Ireland, and that shall 
 
26 — 
 
 at the same time retain all power, if not in the hands of indivi¬ 
 dual landlords, yet in those of the landlord classes. 
 
 I would ask English working men how they would like to be 
 obliged to carry every trade dispute about rise of wages, or 
 length of hours, to a court of arbitrators appointed by the 
 capitalist classes entirely, and to which they could not elect 
 a single one of the arbitrators—in which they were entirely 
 unrepresented—and the decisions of which could be enforced on 
 them by law? 
 
 That the reductions of rent hitherto made have been very 
 considerable, is a matter of rejoicing so far as it goes. In the 
 present excited state of the country, no doubt they have felt 
 every desire to give decisions that would satisfy the people. 
 The power of this motive, and the effect it was likely to have, 
 was admitted in a very able article in the Daily News; besides 
 which there is, as far as I know, no reason to doubt the will of 
 the Commissioners to do justice. The machinery of the Land 
 Act is condemned, not by the individual character of the gentle¬ 
 men who work it, but by the entirely vicious and unjust 
 principle on which the courts are constituted; but even yet 
 the judicial rent is nearly always an advance on the old rent 
 (though a reduction on the rent the tenant is now paying), 
 and there is little hope that even this rate of reduction will 
 be permanently kept up. Lord Hartington, in his speech at 
 Blackburn the other day, gave utterance to these very signi¬ 
 ficant words:—“There may be, and I think very likely will 
 be, disappointment at the subsequent decisions of the Land 
 Commissioners. Tenants may very likely begin to find that 
 no such general reduction as they are beginning to expect will 
 be made.” These words from a cabinet minister strike the 
 key-note of the Land Act. It is like the Agricultural Holdings 
 Act for England (given by the Tories)—it appeared to grant 
 everything, but by the clause allowing contract out of the 
 Bill, it did practically grant very little. 
 
 The Irish Land Act seems to grant much (though not all 
 desired), but by its elastic machinery, worked entirely by the 
 ruling classes, it does really and substantially grant merely 
 
— 27 — 
 
 some temporary concessions of considerable value, but still far 
 from being all that is needful, and gives no security for the 
 certain continuance even of these; and the Irish working classes 
 may fairly claim the support of the English working classes in 
 their adherence to the larger claim of a scheme for the establish¬ 
 ment of a peasant proprietary. Let the landlords be paid out: 
 it will be the cheapest for England in the end. We paid a 
 great deal of money to redeem slaves in the West Indies, 
 why not pay money as cheerfully to create a class of peasant 
 proprietors in Ireland, who would work for the repayment of 
 the sum so expended, who would buy perpetual leases of their 
 land at a low rent, paying by instalments? It would be a great 
 effort, but it would be worth our while. Consider that the 
 rents now drawn from Ireland are spent largely by idle people 
 in foreign travel, or in strange luxuries. This money is lost to 
 Ireland, and largely to England also; but if the country were 
 full of small proprietors, they would fill their homes with those 
 little comforts which we now see everywhere in Ireland, in 
 those few cases of peasant proprietary that we meet with. 
 
 I visited a few very small owners (not many, for there are 
 not many to be found), but wherever I did meet with them, 
 I was amazed at their industry, and the comparative comfort 
 of their little dwellings. On the Kingston estate (or what was 
 formerly part of that estate) are five or six small freeholders 
 who got their holdings in a spot so barren and remote on a 
 wild mountain, that they were actually not thought of—their 
 very existence forgotten for twenty-one years—and so they became 
 free. They have made the wilderness to blossom as the rose. 
 
 I have seen the little patches of a few mountain owners. Use 
 was made of even narrow ledges of rock, which were carefulfy 
 covered with earth, and then walled round, or blocked up with 
 stones, to prevent the earth and manure from being washed 
 away. This manure is often carried up the face of the steep 
 rock in baskets on the people’s backs, or by little mountain 
 donkeys, sombre coloured, sad looking patient creatures, that 
 may be seen trotting along, often without anyone with them, 
 carrying loads of manure or turf along the well-known paths 
 
— 28 — 
 
 without needing a driver. In any little space of earth between 
 the rocks, rows of cabbages and potatoes were planted—every 
 spot was turned to account. Was not the land their own? 
 Bees were kept; the houses well built, and trimly kept, with 
 wooden furniture; dressers full of rows of shiny pots, the pride of 
 the good housewife’s heart; a chest in which to keep the Sunday 
 clothes; a clock against the wall, with pictures on either side; 
 and a gaudy almanack over the fire-place. If these poor people 
 were allowed to own their little farms, they would fill Ireland 
 with fruitful plenty, and every peasant would have a good 
 change of clothing. What a market this would open for our 
 calico, our cloth, shoes, pottery, cutlery! 
 
 Working men of England, it would be better for you that 
 every man in Ireland should have a full supply of these com¬ 
 forts which we make and sell, and that the surplus produce of 
 Irish farms should come to you in return for these things, than 
 that rich people should carry it away to spend it in Switzerland 
 or Germany, leaving Ireland in hungry rebellion, to be suppressed 
 by soldiers that you have to pay for. It would be better for you 
 that an Irish parliament should sit in College Green to manage 
 Irish affairs, than that the liberty of our own House of Commons 
 should be stolen away, as it seems likely to be, in order to main¬ 
 tain slavery in Ireland. The Irish people desire to be free and 
 self-governed. We also love to be free and self-governed. By 
 their will—by their struggle to obtain that will, they show them¬ 
 selves to be our brethren, worthy to take their place beside us 
 as the free citizens of a free land. 
 
 But the Irish hate us? Truly they do, and with good cause; 
 and then, if they have an independent parliament, they will 
 take the first opportunity to separate. No doubt that is now 
 the desire of the mass of the Irish people. And do you 
 advocate separation says my querist? No, I do not; it would 
 leave Ireland and England both weaker and worse off (I do 
 not mean that Ireland would be worse off in that case than 
 she now is), but that Ireland federated to England, and self- 
 governed in local matters, would be better off in union with 
 England, safer from foreign aggression, than she would be 
 
— 29 — 
 
 alone; and in any case, I am an English citizen, and I love my 
 country; separation does not commend itself to my heart, and 
 war is abhorrent to my principles. But why do people not see 
 that the path of justice is. the only road to the ultimate main¬ 
 tenance of peace and union? 
 
 There are two roads to freedom for Ireland—one is through 
 the British constitution, and the extension of self-government; 
 the other is through the battlefield; if we do not open the first in 
 peace, then in some hour of England’s weakness, Ireland will 
 rush into the other. Let us give freedom, and the desire for 
 separation will die away. Trust to the tender Celtic heart, so 
 warm, so generous, so ready to respond to kindness, so quick to 
 offend, but also so willing to atone; so ready to forgive when its 
 keen sensitive pride is conciliated, and its love is sought. Oh, 
 how that quick and passionate pride has been trampled under 
 foot by the hard, cold egotism of the stubborn unyielding 
 English nature! How that love, which might have so easily 
 been gained, has been repulsed and scorned! Let us amend the 
 error. Let us atone now, in this age, for the long oppression 
 of the past, and Ireland will forgive and love us yet. We 
 cannot recall the wrongs of seven hundred years; but we can 
 draw the veil of present justice over the spectres of the past. 
 
 In the village of Tomgraney, I saw a large old tree, said to 
 have been planted by an Irish king; but its peculiarity is that 
 it grows upon a rock; no earth appears to nourish it; it strikes its 
 roots into the fissures of the stone, and so it flourishes. And in 
 like manner, the pride of country, the strong instinct of Irish 
 nationality, thrives without ordinary nutriment. Ireland has 
 been a conquered land for seven hundred years, without a native 
 king; basely juggled out of her independent legislature in 
 1800; without the rich soil of liberty, or native institutions 
 to give it vigour; still Irish nationality lives, and grows green 
 and strong as ever. We cannot uproot it. Let us cease to 
 labour at the ungracious task; let us rather fence it round and 
 give it earth to grow in, and its rich fruits of prosperity and peace 
 may even yet be a glorious harvest for England and Ireland both. 
 
 But defective as the Land Act is, it was, perhaps, the best 
 
— 30 — 
 
 that could be passed under the circumstances. We do not know 
 the difficulties that may have had to be overcome before the 
 Bill could be brought forward; but we do know that the country 
 was almost convulsed by the opposition of the Lords before it 
 could be passed. It would not be just to condemn the ministry 
 because the Land Act is not what we desire. No human being 
 can be justly blamed for not performing that which is impos¬ 
 sible. Its reproach is not in that which it has not done (and, 
 perhaps, could not have done), but in that which it has done, 
 and most certainly should not have done, in that denial of its 
 own principles—in that betrayal of the highest aspirations of its 
 own party—in that truckling to the Whigs, and treason to the 
 people, involved in the passing of the Coercion Act, and the 
 stimulation of the centralized police to the outrages of which 
 they have been guilty. 
 
 II.— The Coercion Act. 
 
 Mr. John Bright defends Coercion because one of the Irish 
 members said that the “Queen’s Government had been knocked 
 into a cocked hat;” but when the Act was passed, we were told 
 by Mr. Forster that it was to be applied to “village ruffians only.” 
 The two ministers do not agree in their statements of the reasons 
 for which the Act was passed; but Mr. Forster was endeavouring 
 to reconcile reluctant Badicals to the passing of the Act, by 
 telling them how insignificant would be the use made of it; and 
 Mr. Bright is trying to excuse to the country the tremendous 
 despotism of its present action, by informing us that all ordinary 
 government was at an end before it was passed; but if that had 
 been the case , Mr. Forster would have had no necessity to talk 
 about “village ruffians.” “Village ruffians” could not overturn 
 the ordinary government of a country. 
 
 But, after all, what does Mr. Bright’s statement amount to? 
 Merely that an Irish member said this thing. Well, Irish 
 members (and English members, too), say very silly things 
 occasionally. I don’t remember to have heard who said this, it 
 was a very stupid thing to say, but affords no excuse for the 
 Coercion Act, for it was either true or untrue. If it was true , if 
 
31 — 
 
 it was a statement of an actual fact, if ordinary government 
 was at an end, then the men who had done that were certainly 
 responsible to the ordinary law. The ordinary law can deal 
 with treason; and by the law they should have been fairly tried. 
 So far the excuse for Coercion is worthless, if the thing said was 
 true; but if it was not true (and at the time at which the Coercion 
 Act was passed, it was not true ), then it simply comes to this— 
 that because a silly gentleman made a foolish boasting speech, the 
 liberties of a whole people are to be taken away: and John Bright 
 defends this! 
 
 Of all the sorrows that can swell the human heart to bursting 
 the bitterest is the desertion of a friend. Ireland must have 
 felt a thrill of pain run through her like an electric shock, from 
 Coleraine to Cork, when this ever-to-be-lamented speech was 
 uttered:— 
 
 “By the Act for the Protection of Person and Property in Ireland, any 
 man, woman, or child, may be arrested on the warrant of the Lord Lieu¬ 
 tenant, detained in any prison in Ireland without bail or mainprize, and 
 shall not be discharged or tried by any court, without the warrant of the 
 Lord Lieutenant; and every such warrant shall, for the purposes of this 
 Act, be conclusive evidence of all matters therein contained. . . . Any 
 
 person detained by a warrant under this Act shall be treated as a person 
 accused of crime, etc.” 
 
 Of this all that requires to be said is that it is the foulest and 
 most cruel injustice to allow, that on the mere word of an official 
 (any official, whether high or low), any British subject shall be 
 torn from his home and friends, and without any evidence being 
 brought against him, without being brought face to face with his 
 accusers, without any trial or sentence, should be shut up in 
 prison till the Government shall please to release him. 
 
 Accusation without witnesses, condemnation without trial, and 
 imprisonment without sentence are outrages on liberty so gross 
 that every faithful lover of English freedom should protest 
 against them. 
 
 I am informed that during the debate that preceded the passing 
 of the Coercion Act, Mr. Forster promised that he would 
 personally investigate every case that came under it before the 
 arrests were made. It is now believed in Ireland that magistrates 
 
and police authorities boast of having biank warrants in their 
 possession to fill up as they please. 
 
 For the sake of expediency, because of the ties of party, and 
 from a vague fear of giving sanction to outrages against the law, 
 many Liberals give a reluctant support to the Coercion Acts. 
 Would to God that the feeble voice of a woman might recall 
 them to their duty. It is but little I can do, but while these 
 Acts remain in force no considerations of friendship or of inter¬ 
 est, no fear of being misunderstood, will bind me down to silence. 
 I declare these Acts to be a dangerous outrage on the liberty of 
 the English people. I denounce the ministers who have passed 
 them as traitors to the broad liberal principles they were sent to 
 power to carry out. I did not wait for the arrest of the Irish 
 leaders to say these things. To me the liberty of the poorest 
 peasant who is brooding night and day over the wrong done him, 
 fretting himself in vain and helpless anguish against his prison 
 walls, is as precious as that of the leaders of the people. The 
 meanest citizen of a free land should be safe from the hand of 
 despotic power. That it is not so in Ireland to-day is the lasting- 
 infamy of the ministers, who, climbing to power by liberal tra¬ 
 ditions, have dared to trample liberty under their feet. 
 
 For the use made of the Coercion Acts to break up the Land 
 League (which had been declared to be a legal combination) by 
 the arrest of its leaders, it was simply a disgrace to England. 
 Either these men had done something illegal or they had not. 
 They were no “ village ruffians” whose acts of outrage, concealed 
 by the darkness of night and the complicity of their neighbours, 
 required the powers of a Coercion Act to lay hold of them. They 
 were men who stood before the world glorying in all they did. 
 Their words and acts were open and public as the day, and they 
 were either legal or illegal. If illegal they should have been 
 taken, tried, and sentenced by the ordinary law—if legal they 
 should have been let alone to carry on their agitation to its peace¬ 
 ful and natural termination in the establishment of an Irish Par¬ 
 liament on Irish soil. By their arrest the national life of Ireland 
 has been driven into her blood, like a disease driven inwards to 
 her injury and ours. 
 
— 33 — 
 
 What harm in the name of common-sense could an Irish Par¬ 
 liament do to us? It would do us good; for we should be deli¬ 
 vered from the danger to our own liberty in our own Parliament 
 which arises from the necessity of gagging the Irish members. 
 “ Oh, but they would separate entirely from us! ” Not they. What 
 should they get by it if they had all the freedom they require 
 without it? And they would lose the strength which union with 
 England gives them against foreign foes. The desire for separation 
 is a protest against injustice. Give justice and it would die away. 
 
 “ But the Land League would not allow the Land Act to be 
 tried!” This was one of the untruths by which the English 
 people were to be reconciled to an act of high-handed tyranny. 
 In fact nearly three thousand cases were being prepared to come 
 before the Court with every aid of legal advice that money could 
 procure—cases of the ver y poorest and most helpless tenants—many 
 of them which have been (according to the Daily News itself) 
 dropped or thrown over through the failure of the Land League. 
 The Land Act was being accepted by the Land League. The League 
 advised the tenants to get all the good they could out of the Land 
 Act. 
 
 As a single specimen of the misrepresentations which were set 
 afloat, I was at a public meeting at Chatham at which I heard an 
 ex-member of Parliament quote a statement from the day’s paper 
 to the effect that all the cases which were being brought forward 
 were cases in which the rent was at or under Griffith’s valuation, 
 and consequently cases in which no reduction could be expected 
 to be made. I felt a strong inclination to rise and contradict the 
 speaker; but, as I was not in possession of the actual facts, I 
 could not prudently do so. I asked the question, however, of 
 Mr. Lalor, M.P. I give a copy of his reply:— 
 
 “ Dear Miss Craigen, 
 
 “ In reply to your question—in my own county (Queen’s), there were 
 at least 250 test cases prepared by the Land League Branches for presen¬ 
 tation before the Land Court in which the rent exceeded Griffith’s valua¬ 
 tion by 25 to 50 per cent. 
 
 “ Yours very truly, 
 
 “ Richard Lalor.” 
 
 The same fact was, I believe, true of other counties. 
 
 c 
 
34 — 
 
 III.— The Police. 
 
 I come now to speak of the Royal Irish Constabulary. It 
 is a principle laid down by some of our greatest thinkers 
 that self-government is the only really good government 
 for the people. The life of nations is not like the build¬ 
 ing of a house, in which men take dead stones and bricks 
 and pile them one upon another after a plan contrived by 
 some one master mind. It is rather like the growing of a tree 
 which gathers its elements from without, but assimilates them to 
 its own structure by the vital powers of its own nature. The 
 function of the police in a free country is the repression of crime, 
 and in this, be it remembered, they represent the people them¬ 
 selves. In the early periods of our history the freeholders were 
 their own police, took their turns in watching and guarding by 
 night, and shared in the duty of pursuing criminals; but in pro¬ 
 cess of time it became very inconvenient for men to leave their 
 shops and farms to do this. Consequently they employed others 
 to do it for them. This is the true theory of the police in a free 
 land. They are the substitutes or the representatives of the citi¬ 
 zens, performing for them the duty of guarding their life and 
 property. 
 
 Now, it is clear that the control and payment of these substi¬ 
 tutes ought to rest with those whom they represent (that is, the 
 ratepayers of the district in which the police act). To hand over 
 the control of the force to the central Goverment, is at once to 
 alter the character and objects of the whole force altogether, and 
 to make it an army at the disposal of the ruling powers for poli¬ 
 tical purposes. That this follows is a necessity of the case. 
 The thing is as clear as daylight. To the ratepayers of any given 
 town (say Leeds) it is of the first importance that criminals 
 should be guarded against. If a grocer who has been to the 
 play is assaulted and robbed in Hunslet-lane on his way home 
 at night, and he can attribute his disaster to the want of proper 
 care on the part of the police, this is to him the vital thing in 
 the whole business—that he helps to pay men to keep Hunslet- 
 lane clear of thieves and they have not done it. This is intensely 
 important to him and all other dwellers in Hunslet-lane. He 
 
— 35 — 
 
 forthwith makes a fuss about it, and while the payment and 
 control of the police is with him and his fellow-ratepayers , they 
 will insist on having things in some degree mended. But, if 
 the whole power is in the hands of a Minister of State in 
 London two hundred miles away, it is to him a very insigni¬ 
 ficant and small thing that a grocer has been knocked down and 
 robbed of his watch in Leeds. What is the grocer to him? 
 But if a public meeting is to be held in Leeds to protest against 
 his misgovernment, or an agitation is going on for a change of 
 Ministry that may throw him out of office, that , indeed, is 
 supremely important. The police must look after that, and 
 will be paid and promoted if they can effectively disperse the 
 meeting or snub the agitation into silence. Therefore it is an 
 axiom that a police paid and ordered by the ratepayers is 
 a force for the repression of crime; but a police paid and 
 ordered by the the Home Secretary is a force for the re¬ 
 pression of political opinion; and it is for this nation to 
 say which it will have—local police, justice, and liberty, or 
 centralized police slavery—with all the crime and danger 
 which slavery brings with it. Even while I write the note 
 of warning is sounded from Vienna, where the police locked 
 the doors of the Bing Theatre, fastening up hundreds of poor 
 creatures to be burned to death who might now be alive and 
 well were it not for this blunder or crime which could only have 
 been committed by a centralized police* The general principle 
 being thus clear, I urge on Englishmen who value liberty to 
 demand the abolition of the Boyal Irish Constabulary. It is a 
 danger to our liberty in England; it is a part of the chain of 
 police centralization which has been wound round us with slow 
 and stealthy care, and which will strangle our freedom if we do 
 not break it. The Metropolitan Police force, a drilled army 
 which holds London under the Home Secretary, over which the 
 ratepayers of London have no power, is one great link in this 
 chain. The Irish Police is another. The police working the 
 Contagious Diseases Acts in the subjected districts of England 
 and Ireland is yet another. These links must be broken. If 
 the repression of riot or rebellion requires armed force, there are 
 
 c* 
 
— 36 — 
 
 the soldiers voted by Parliament for that purpose; but let us not 
 under any pretence allow any Government to possess itself of a 
 police army for political purposes. 
 
 I take the following particulars from The History of the Royal 
 Irish Constabulary ,by County-Inspector Curtis, published in 1871. 
 This force, as it at present exists, was formed in 1836 under 
 what is known as Mr. Drummond’s Act. It consists of one 
 inspector-general, who must reside in Dublin, and who holds the 
 cord by which this police net is fastened over a captive people in 
 his single hand, thus securing the highest degree of centraliza¬ 
 tion. Under him there are two provincial inspectors, thirty-five 
 county inspectors, sub-inspectors, etc., at the discretion of the 
 Lord Lieutenant, and a force of (I believe at present) between 
 11,000 and 12,000 men, all armed to the teeth, trained by military 
 drill, gathered into barracks, etc. In fact, a military and cen¬ 
 tralized force of the most despotic type. In 1846 a Bill was 
 passed throwing the expense of this most dangerous force on the 
 Consolidated Fund, and thereby taking every possible vestige of 
 control out of the hands of the Irish people; also giving power 
 to the Lord Lieutenant to increase the Deserve. All this has 
 not been done without protest. 
 
 Sir Morton Peto, in a book on Taxation, published in 1863, 
 says the Constabulary in Ireland is “ nothing more than an army 
 in disguise, and which should be treated as a branch of the army 
 in dealing with the question of the military occupation of the 
 country.” 
 
 In 1858 a resolution was sent from the Grand Jury of the 
 County Tipperary condemning the system. The resolution is 
 very long, and I need only quote the following lines:—“ That 
 for some years past the constabulary has become more and 
 more a military force, and in exact proportion as that system 
 had been established their usefulness and efficiency as a domestic 
 force had been weakened and impaired.” 
 
 In 1859 the Judge, in addressing the Grand Jury for the 
 King’s County, passed a similar condemnation on the Irish police 
 force, and many other remonstrances have been made; but all in 
 vain. The Boyal Irish Constabulary is the right hand with which 
 
— 37 — 
 
 Ireland is held down in slavery. We are told “we could not 
 hold Ireland without it.” I answer—“ It would even he better 
 to lose Ireland than to lose our own liberty in hindering hers.” 
 But I do not accept the alternative. Ireland would be more safely 
 and truly held to us by the bonds of justice and liberty than by 
 a centralized Police army of 12,000 men. 
 
 Inspector Curtis tells us that in the year 1871 the police exer¬ 
 cised a great variety of powers which must have had the effect 
 of concentrating in their hands an amount of authority fearful 
 to think of. Whether this has been in any way altered since 
 1871 I cannot now ascertain, but from what I heard in Ireland 
 I am inclined to think that all the following powers are still in 
 the hands of the police, viz.:—“ They take the census of the 
 population every tenth year; they take agricultural statistics 
 annually; they issue and collect the voting papers for the elec¬ 
 tion of poor-law guardians; they put in force the fishery laws; 
 they carry out the Yagrancy Act and the Towns’ Improvement 
 Act; they execute loan fund warrants; they act as inspectors of 
 weights and measures; they see that all dogs in the district are 
 duly registered; and they are charged with the suppression of 
 illicit distilleries.” 
 
 We shrink with terror from the despotic power involved in all 
 this. It is a upas tree of tyranny, and the sooner it is torn up 
 the better for Ireland and for England both. Early in the 
 present year (1881) circulars were issued by the Liberal Govern¬ 
 ment stimulating the police to “ energetic” action. I have not 
 by me copies of these, circulars, but of the kind of “ energy” they 
 called forth. I have a few sad and important words to say of 
 the general tendency of the circulars issued by the Government. 
 We may judge by another of these productions which even now, 
 while I write, is freely issued. I copy it from the Freeman’s 
 Journal, it runs thus:— 
 
 “ CIRCULAR ISSUED TO THE CONSTABULARY. 
 
 “ Every effort should be made by the constabulary in charge of stations 
 to get some person who would, on consideration of a substantial reward, 
 give 'private information of outrages about to be committed; and should the 
 constabulary on such information succeed in making a detection and arrest, 
 
— 38 — 
 
 the reward would be paid by the constables, and no mention will ever be 
 made of the informer’s name. The reward will be increased in proportion 
 to the seriousness of the offence and the number of detections made on the 
 occasion. Of course the most likely persons to give information are those 
 who are engaged in such outrages, and are in the confidence of the raiders, 
 and know accurately when such outrages are about to take place. The 
 sub-inspector will confidentially communicate with the constables in his 
 district, with the view of carrying out the arrangement as soon as possible. 
 The informant is to be told that he will not be required under any cir¬ 
 cumstances to prosecute in any such cases, and that his name will never be 
 mentioned to any person for giving the information. The reward will 
 vary from £20 to X100.” 
 
 Side by side with this is an announcement that the constabu¬ 
 lary force is to be largely extended. Who does not see that this 
 is a direct premium on the worst and lowest vices of lying, 
 hatred, and false accusation? It is a Government hot-bed for the 
 growth of the lowest sort of informers. Alas! poor Ireland; the 
 wretched rule of thy oppressors corrupts and degrades thy chil¬ 
 dren, and offers to thy sons the miserable alternative of becoming 
 spies or victims. Add to this the powers given by the Coer¬ 
 cion Act; and remember that the victims of the false and mis¬ 
 taken accusations, sure to be called forth in fearful numbers by 
 this circular, will be hurried off at once to prison, never con¬ 
 fronted with their accusers, never tried, no opportunity given to 
 them of unravelling the tangled threads of falsehood in which 
 they have been caught, denounced by paid informers, arrested, 
 perhaps in the midnight, by a military police; buried without 
 trial in a prison, subject without appeal to the slanders of an 
 arbitrary Government and a venal press. 
 
 English working men! this is the state of slavery into which 
 your Liberal Government is plunging Ireland. If you have the 
 feelings of men, or the souls of freemen, rise up in your strength 
 and let these traitors to liberty know that the heart of England 
 is not with them—that we (the working people) give no sanction 
 to wickedness like this. 
 
 While I was in Ireland some few instances of police tyranny 
 came under my observation; let me take first Mitchelstown. 
 In June last a large body of troops and police was sent down 
 
—- 39 
 
 to Mitchelstown. In ordinary times this is a little quiet country 
 place, with no stir or bustle at all going on; but on market days 
 the streets and the large square are crowded with people who 
 come in from all parts of the country round, so that the throng 
 is very great. ISTow, if I had been obliged to carry a body 
 of military into a town (between whom and the people hostility 
 was known to exist) I would have taken care to choose a time 
 at which as few persons were about as possible; instead of which 
 2,500 armed men were brought into the place on a market day 
 when the streets were crowded with people. They came (I 
 believe), I am not quite sure, but I think they came to collect 
 a debt of £1 15s. 8d. 
 
 I reached Mitchelstown on the following day. A part of this 
 invading army was on its retreat. Our car stood on one side to 
 let the procession of troops, baggage, waggons, etc., pass. I went 
 on to the town. I felt a stifling heaviness in the atmosphere. 
 I was not breathing the air of a free land. As the soldiery 
 marched past no men and women gathered at the doors with 
 pleasant interest; no smiling servant-girls peeped blushing and 
 giggling through the windows; no children ran shouting with 
 careless joy at the heels of the soldiers—these are the incidents 
 which mark the passage of a regiment through an English 
 country town. But here the people stood silent and sullen, 
 cowed but scowling, the iron of slavery has entered into 
 their souls and made them bitter. Oh! how I longed for 
 power to inspire the English people with my own yearning im¬ 
 patience to thrust aside in peace and love the heavy hand that 
 holds the Irish down—to say to them: “ My brothers, the day of 
 liberty has broken; let England and Ireland be foes no more. 
 Be free and love us.” Oh! when will the statesman rise amongst 
 us who will have faith enough in liberty and love to solve the 
 problem of Ireland’s discontent by striking off her chains ? Yet 
 the soldiers (where I went) did not inspire the hatred which is felt 
 for the police. A woman in a cottage by the roadside saw a 
 soldier bending down to gather up water to drink in the hollow 
 of his hand out of a roadside well; she ran and fetched a mug 
 and wiped it clean and filled it for him, and as he held it to his 
 
— 40 — 
 
 lips she said, with tears glistening in her eyes, “I have a boy in 
 the service in India myself.” “ God bless yon, mother,” was the 
 hearty response, and the man passed on. Presently the police 
 came marching by, and a policeman also stooped to drink from 
 the well. Before he conld touch the water, the woman ran and 
 threw a pail of dirt in it. He swore at' her and went his way 
 with thirst nnslaked. 
 
 Such little incidents speak for themselves of the relations be¬ 
 tween the people and the police. I give another of them. 
 Mr. John Sarsfield Casey, Coroner for the County Limerick, 
 had been to an inquest. Coming home he called at a house in 
 the village of Ballylanders, seven miles from Mitchelstown, 
 to see a dying friend, leaving his car standing in an almost 
 empty street in charge of his driver. No disturbance or obstruc¬ 
 tion was created; a policeman came up and asked, “ Who owned 
 the car?” The driver replied, “Mr. Casey;” upon which came 
 the answer back from the policeman that “He didn’t care who 
 owned it,” and took the driver into custody forthwith for no other 
 offence than for waiting for Mr. Casey at a door in a country 
 village street. This, however, was only annoyance—petty op¬ 
 pression of the jack-in-office type. Would there were nothing 
 more than this to tell. 
 
 At three o’clock in the afternoon of the day on which this 
 rent-collecting army marched into Mitchelstown, the soldiers 
 having retired to their camp outside the town, a body of police 
 came down the street into the market. Of what followed I was 
 not an eye-witness, as I arrived in the town on the following 
 morning; but I collected the separate accounts of more than 
 twenty people, not known, in many cases, to each other. I 
 sifted their statements to the best of my ability, and carefully 
 compared them with each other. I visited many of the wounded 
 people, undid their bandages, and looked at their hurts, and the 
 account I now give is the result of these inquiries. When the 
 police came down the street, the square was full of people, sur¬ 
 rounding the stalls, on which eggs, butter, crockery, vegetables, 
 and other matters were exposed for sale. A single stone was 
 thrown (it was not pretended that there was more than one); the 
 
— 41 — 
 
 police themselves asserted that it came from a house at the 
 corner of the square. All the evidence I collected went clearly 
 to show that no other demonstration of violence was made. 
 There was no riot, no disorder, no groaning; nothing but sullen 
 silence when the stone was flung down into the midst of the 
 police. There were five hundred men armed to the teeth, in the 
 midst of an unarmed crowd of men, women, and children, who 
 were offering no provocation whatever when this single stone was 
 thrown. Sub-Inspector Carter drew his sword, and gave at once 
 the order— “Charge, spare neither woman nor child!” The 
 police turned upon the unarmed crowd, striking down all before 
 them. The stalls were overturned, the provisions trampled in 
 the mud (for the day was wet), and the crowds of struggling 
 people were cut at and beaten, as they lay defenceless on the 
 ground. 
 
 Amongst the many statements which I collected was the 
 following statement of Patrick Dolan, watchmaker:— 
 
 On the 30th of June, came down from the Deanery to buy screws for 
 work he was doing there. While standing at the counter, looking at the 
 screws, a policeman came in and pulled him out into the street; another 
 one beat him severely with his baton, while the first one held him. A 
 third came up and said, “Let him go; he’s doing no harm.” His arm was 
 severely bruised. 
 
 I may say that the man rolled up his shirt sleeves, and 
 showed me his arm. It was black and blue from the shoulder 
 down to the wrist, which appeared to be sprained. He could 
 hardly move his hand. 
 
 Along with this, I give the statement of Pat Dolan, jun., a 
 lad of seventeen years old:— 
 
 Was standing at the door of Mr. Foyle, draper, in Lower Cork-street. 
 The police were coming up the corner street. It was three o’clock in the 
 afternoon; heard Inspector Carter give the order to “ Charge, spare neither 
 woman or child.” He and another man, named Fitzgibbou, ran away up 
 a lane beside the shop. Four policemen pursued them; two of them struck 
 him with their batons, knocked him down, and then kicked him in the 
 ribs. Fitzgibbon was knocked down; they left him there; he crawled 
 into a shop to get the wounds dressed. 
 
 In this case also I undid the bandages, and looked at the 
 
 O ' 
 
— 42 — 
 
 cuts and bruises. They were very severe; the skin was broken, 
 and the flesh bleeding in several places. 
 
 The order to charge, “ spare neither woman nor child,” was heard by 
 Miss Flynn from a window, by Dolan, and many others. Carter also cried 
 out, “ Clear the square. We are going to fire.” But the police did not fire 
 at the time. All this was entirely unprovoked by either word or deed on 
 the part of the crowd. 
 
 Another case was that of Widow Leahy, a mother of fifteen 
 children, and grandmother of eight children:— 
 
 Between three or four o’clock in the afternoon was coming up the street 
 on private business; a policeman met her, struck her on the face—with his 
 baton she thinks), but is not sure, as she was taken by surprise. 
 
 The woman’s nose was much swelled by the blow. She declared 
 in answer to my repeated questioning, that she was not saying 
 or doing anything whatever to provoke the blow. Said she did 
 not even see the policeman, as she was looking on the other side 
 of the way. 
 
 Michael Donegan, labourer, about fifty or sixty years of age, a 
 very thin, withered sort of poor creature, that I could myself 
 have lifted in my arms like a child (so thin and weak was he), 
 gave me the following statement:— 
 
 He was coming along the road from the direction of the eviction, but 
 had not taken any part in it; had not been there at all. He stopped and 
 stood with another man, who was the occupier of the ground, at a garden 
 gate; they were not making any demonstration at all of any kind of feel¬ 
 ing, only talking quietly to one another. The other man was inside the 
 garden gate; Donegan was outside of it. The police came down the road, 
 going from one eviction to another. A policeman said, “ Clear out of 
 that;” the other man ran away into his house, but Donegan was outside 
 the gate, and before he could get it open, and without giving him time to 
 move or reply, ten or twelve policemen fell on him with their batons. He 
 was struck to the ground at once, and they continued to beat him when 
 down, inflicting a serious scalp wound, a deep cut on the neck, and bruising 
 the arm which he held up to defend himself. He bled profusely, and 
 became insensible, in which state they left him. The second man coming 
 out of his house, to ask the police to have mercy on Donegan, received 
 some blows also, but not of so severe a character. No blow in return, nor 
 any resistance of any kind, was offered by either of them. Mr. Skinner 
 and Mr. O’Neill called the attention of the police, who had withdrawn a 
 
— 43 
 
 little, and stood about twenty yards off, to the state the man was in (lying 
 bleeding on the ground), but they only laughed at it as a great joke, and 
 said “a falling bramble had hit him.” 
 
 The man had been attended by Dr. Mahony, and Dr. McGrath. 
 He is a labourer out of work. I undid the bandages, and laid the 
 three fingers of my hand in the deep cut on the head; it went 
 down to the skull, and the clotted blood lay on his white hair. 
 His neck was in a fearful state, and the arm badly bruised. I 
 must say that no excuse could exist for these proceedings. If 
 such a man had done anything wrong, a single policeman could 
 have taken him into custody as easily as I would lift a straw. 
 I saw a large number of other persons who had been wounded. 
 One woman had her face cut to the bone with a sword cut. 
 
 I saw also a boy of about thirteen, who, when the charge was 
 made in the market-place, fell in the confusion, in a crowd of 
 fallen persons, overturned stalls, and scattered merchandise, and 
 this lad fell over something, so that his head and body were 
 sheltered by others lying on him, and his legs stuck up in the 
 air exposed to view. A policeman laid hold of him, took his 
 two legs in one hand, and beat him with his baton with the 
 other. The feet and legs of the boy were bare. I unrolled the 
 clothes, and looked at his naked legs. I can compare them to 
 nothing so much as to a rotten apple, when the skin is all 
 broken, and the soft pulpy matter runs down the side; in such 
 a state were this poor child’s legs. 
 
 But said a person to me, why do they not get redress? In 
 reply to this answer, I was told universally they cannot get it; 
 the attempt is hopeless. In several cases of this kind, applica¬ 
 tion for a summons has been made to a magistrate, but there 
 is a general refusal to allow any summons to be taken out 
 against the police. 
 
 In a quite different part of the country (in Kilmallock), I 
 was present in the court when four ladies were called before 
 Major Clifford Lloyd to answer to a charge of obstructing the 
 footpath on a road forty-eight yards wide. The summons was 
 dismissed; but strangers were there, also reporters from all 
 parts of the country. Mr. Boyd Kinnear had written a letter to 
 
— 44 — 
 
 the London papers, and the thing was getting widely talked 
 about and laughed at. Clearly it was in the interest of those 
 who do not wish that light should be thrown on the doings 
 of the police, to let the matter drop. But the very fact of such 
 a summons being issued at all , speaks volumes as to the system 
 of petty tyranny under which such a thing could take place; 
 and of the doings of Major Clifford Lloyd and his police when 
 no strangers are present, and no eager reporters on the watch, 
 I heard more than enough. 
 
 The following are some of the statements made (of course* 
 this is all one-sided evidence), but we did our best to get—and 
 did get—corroborative testimony in all these cases (they are all 
 open to inquiry), but it is impossible that in all parts of the 
 country similar stories should be laid before you, with every 
 sort of corroboration from the surrounding circumstances, if they 
 were not true; and I should like to remark that the sort of 
 testimony I am now giving—viz., that of the sufferers them¬ 
 selves given on the spot to one earnestly seeking to get at 
 truth, is exactly the same sort of evidence that we had to the 
 Bulgarian outrages. Of course, I don’t mean to say that these 
 cases of oppression, bad as they are, are quite as bad as the 
 Bulgarian outrages; but I mean that the sort of evidence we had 
 for the fact of the oppression of the Bulgarians by the Turkish 
 government, was exactly the same sort of evidence that I am 
 now giving of the oppression of the Irish by the English govern¬ 
 ment. And on the faith of that evidence , Mr. Gladstone raised all 
 England into a ferment. I hope that all the virtuous indigna¬ 
 tion in England was not expended on Bulgaria; but that there is 
 somewhere amongst us a little of it left to make a protest with 
 on behalf of Ireland. 
 
 Statement of David Colman, of Kilmallock:— 
 
 A woman selling milk went into a shop where Mrs. Colman dealt. Mrs. 
 Colman went in just after her, and found some squabbling going on 
 between this woman and some girls who were in the shop. They were 
 charging the milk woman with selling milk to a person who was boycotted. 
 Mrs. Colman took no part in the altercation at all, never said a word one 
 way or the other, but got what she came for, and was going away when 
 
- 45 — 
 
 the woman said, “What would you do if I summoned you?” Mrs. 
 Colman replied, what for? What have I done? The woman charged 
 Mrs. Colman with intimidation before Major Lloyd. She was taken up, 
 kept the whole night in the police barracks. Major Lloyd heard the case 
 
 PRIVATELY. 
 
 Mark the privately —where is the publicity of the open courts, 
 which is one of the greatest guarantees of justice ? Magistrates in 
 Ireland seem to be despotic tyrants working their own will, and 
 not just administrators of English law. Well, the case being 
 heard privately, Major Lloyd ordered bail to be found for her good 
 behaviour for six months. Good substantial bail was found 
 and offered for the amount. Major Lloyd refused to take 
 them, because they were members of the Land League. (The 
 Land League was at that time declared by Mr. Forster to be 
 a perfectly legal organization.) By what right did Major Lloyd 
 refuse to take this bail ? He refusing the bail, Mrs. Colman was 
 sent at once (without public court or trial by jury, or oppor¬ 
 tunity of defence, or chance of procuring further bail) for six 
 months to Limerick gaol, for no other offence than that of 
 having been an involuntary witness to a mere squabble between 
 some quarrelling women in an open shop. The man who passed 
 this sentence is a disgrace to the bench, and a scandal to the 
 tyrannical government which nominated such an iron tool to 
 do its dirty work. If the English people would do their duty 
 to Ireland, they would demand the removal of Major Clifford 
 Lloyd, and all magistrates of the same quality from the bench. 
 
 Here is another sample of the same system. Statement of 
 Patrick Barry, of Kilmallock:— 
 
 Was in the street by the post office, about ten minutes to ten at night. 
 Was posting a letter; the band had been playing, and there was a crowd 
 listening to it. The police came out to disperse the crowd; the mob groaned 
 at the police. Sergeant Bush struck Patrick Barry with his baton on the 
 head; the blow made a great swelling on his head for a week. He fell 
 down flat on the ground when struck, the blow came on him with such 
 force. He got up as well as he could, and got away; he never offered to 
 resist or retaliate. He was not doing anything; not groaning nor taking 
 any share in the proceedings; only quietly posting his letter in the box. 
 
— 46 — 
 
 Another case is that of Michael Casey, son of a publican in 
 Kilmallock, who makes the following statement:— 
 
 Was arrested in March for lighting the tar barrels in the street on the 
 occasion of Miss Parnell’s visit; had the option of a fine, or twenty-four 
 hours in gaol; would not pay; they would not take the trouble of arresting 
 prisoners for that time; so was let go. Was arrested again on 21st of 
 May, and charged with riot at a Land League meeting on the 24th of 
 April. At a Land League meeting on that day there was a riot, and some 
 policemen were hurt seriously. The prisoner was not inciting to riot, but 
 was trying to keep the rioters quiet; was kept in Limerick gaol, bail being 
 refused. Was brought up to court in Kilmallock on the 27th of May, 
 before Major Clifford Lloyd, who allowed police evidence against prisoner, 
 but at first would not allow any evidence for prisoner to be called. Prisoner 
 insisted on having witnesses examined on his side as well as against him. 
 Respectable witnesses then came up and swore he was not concerned in the 
 riots. Prisoner was then acquitted on that charge. On the 25th of June, 
 some cattle were taken to the railway station in care of police. Went up 
 to the station. The head constable told him to go away; he replied he 
 would not without orders from the station-master. Spoke to head porter, 
 who said he (the constable) had no authority to turn him off the premises, 
 so stood there about half an hour till cattle were released. Constable 
 asked for his name, which he gave. Soon after was standing at his own door; 
 sergeant came up and said he had a warrant for his arrest for obstructing 
 the constable in the discharge of his duty. Prisoner asked to see the 
 warrant, which was refused. Sergeant told him that when he went up to 
 the barrack to Major Lloyd he would see and hear enough. Was taken up 
 before Major Lloyd, who was sitting at a table with a revolver and a 
 bottle of whiskey before him. He was writing the information, which 
 was not finished, so that prisoner was arrested without a warrant, as the 
 warrant could not be issued till the information was written. Policeman 
 then read the information, which was “That prisoner had been guilty at 
 the railway station, as a ringleader, of conduct calculated to provoke a 
 riot if there had been anybody there, and obstruction of the police in their 
 duty.” Prisoner asked constable what the obstruction was. Major Lloyd 
 said he would hear no sauce. Prisoner asked to be allowed to call witnesses. 
 Major Lloyd replied that he would have no witnesses against his men (the 
 police), but ordered the prisoner to find two sureties in „£20 each, to keep 
 the peace for six months. This was in his own private house. Prisoner 
 then asked to be summoned before the court that he might call witnesses, 
 and disprove the charge. Major Lloyd said he would not. Prisoner then 
 said: “This is summary punishment with a vengeance; it is downright 
 blackguarding.” Prisoner was then taken to the lock up. Prisoner asked 
 whom he could send for his bails. Sergeant refused to go, or to send any 
 
— 47 — 
 
 one of his men. A young man who was by went for the bails. Two 
 farmers came up immediately, but were told Major Lloyd was in at dinner, 
 and could not be seen for that night. Prisoner was left in a cell six feet 
 square, with a wet floor, with only a board to lie on all night. Next 
 morning the two farmers came again, but were told he (Major Lloyd), 
 would not put pen to paper on the Sabbath. Prisoner remained in the 
 same cell, in the same state till Monday morning, the only difference 
 was that his friends brought him some bedclothes. On Monday morning 
 was taken without further hearing of any kind to gaol to have the bails 
 perfected. Was in gaol three days. Major Lloyd refused to take Land 
 Leaguers as bail. Prisoner’s mother then told Major Lloyd that he was 
 going to America. Major Lloyd replied that if prisoner would go to 
 America within a week he would let him out. Prisoner was brought up 
 on the 29th of June; Major Lloyd read the conditions to him; prisoner 
 said he would not agree. Major Lloyd said he had not sent for him to 
 ask him whether he would agree or not; it was with his mother he was 
 dealing. 
 
 By what right did Major Lloyd release this young man thus ? 
 If he had done anything wrong, he should have been tried and 
 punished. If he had done nothing wrong, he should have been 
 let free without any conditions at all. We seem to be reading 
 the accounts of the proceedings of some Turkish Pasha, and 
 not of a magistrate under a Liberal Ministry in England. 
 
 After this, prisoner again demanded to be tried in open court, that he 
 might disprove the charges against him; but was refused. This hearing 
 was also in Major Lloyd’s private house. Prisoner’s mother then told him 
 to thank Major Lloyd for his goodness, but he answered her, that he’d see 
 him at the devil first, and so was discharged, and came away. 
 
 This young man is just twenty-one years of age. 
 
 Statement of Michael Sheedy, drummer to the Killmallock 
 band:— 
 
 States that one evening, May 24th last, he played with the band up the 
 main street of Kilmallock; the police attacked the band and dispersed the 
 crowd; a policeman came to Sheedy, caught hold of him, tore his coat, and 
 threatened to knock him down. He got away, and fell in with the rest of 
 the band; they began to play “ God save Ireland; ” Sheedy began to beat 
 his drum; had beaten about six or seven strokes, when ten or eleven 
 policemen fell on him, and beat him with their batons. They took his 
 drum and broke it to pieces; took the pieces away from him, also his 
 drumstick, and cut his head open with batons; it bled very freely; he 
 
— 48 — 
 
 crawled home and went to bed. At three o’clock in the morning was 
 arrested by six policemen, taken up to the barracks, and kept there till' 
 midday, then taken to the courts; was tried for riot, remanded for ten days; 
 was then brought back to Kilmallock court for second hearing, and bound 
 over to keep the peace for twelve months in one surety, or twelve months 
 in gaol; found the sureties, and was discharged; was never compensated 
 for the drum, which cost .£10. 
 
 Statement of Mr. Joyce, Suspect in Limerick Gaol:— 
 
 Mr. Lloyd came first to Kilmallock on a Friday. On the following 
 Monday evening the local band played through the town as usual, when it 
 was passing the police-barrack, Mr. Lloyd had about twenty policemen 
 drawn up in the yard by the roadside ; the moment the band passed 
 Mr. Lloyd was heard by all round to say, “ At them now boys, and pitch 
 into them,” which they did, beating the people with their batons freely. 
 The police alleged that stones were thrown before they charged; but several 
 persons contradicted the statement. The following morning the police 
 arrested the drummer (whose story I have given), also O’Grady, the baker, 
 who was passing up the street on ordinary business where the band was 
 playing, and had taken no share in the affair. O’Grady was taken out of bed 
 at four o’clock in the morning, taken to the police barrack, then taken hand¬ 
 cuffed from the police-barrack to the court. He was discharged owing to 
 his good character and having witnesses to prove that he was going about 
 his work. A boy named Toomey was arrested. He was brought before 
 Mr. Lloyd charged with being one of the riotous mob on the night before. 
 The boy said he was not there. Mr. Lloyd asked the policeman if it were 
 possible he had made a mistake? The policeman said, “ No ; not at all.” 
 The boy asked “ Why?” “ Oh,” the policeman said, “he knew him well; 
 he was a corner-boy, and he was recently had up.” The boy was about 
 seventeen. He still persisted that he was innocent, and said he had wit¬ 
 nesses to prove that he was elsewhere. He said he slept in the workhouse, 
 and the porter there could prove that he was locked up at eight o’clock 
 that night. The porter was called and proved it by the workhouse book. 
 The boy was discharged. Mr. Lloyd excused the policeman, saying that 
 in cases of excitement they were liable to mistake. 
 
 I had heard of many murders done by the police in unprovoked 
 charges upon unarmed and unresisting people in many parts of 
 the country. One of these cases I got the full particulars of. 
 I went to Bodyke, a remote, out-of-the way village in County 
 Clare. I saw the parties concerned in the affair, and took their 
 statements down in writing from their own lips. They were told 
 that these statements were to be used in public, and would 
 
— 49 
 
 probably be tested; and they made them with great care. In the 
 case of the Eev. Mr. Murphy, the parish priest of Bodyke, I may 
 say that on the first day on which I saw him he was hurried, 
 being at a public dinner; but on a subsequent day he came over 
 to the hotel at Bodyke and gave me, with much solemn feeling, 
 a statement which he signed, saying he gave it for the satisfaction 
 of his conscience. I give it below. On the 1st of June writs were 
 to be issued on the property of Colonel John O’Callaghan (of 
 whom I made mention in a former part of this paper). The 
 police came into Bodyke in the morning, and I give the various 
 accounts which I received from different persons as to what took 
 place further. 
 
 Statement signed by Father Murphy, Parish Priest of Bodyke:— 
 On the morning of the 1st of June, on my arrival, I found the police 
 with their bayonets fixed presented at the breasts of the people, who stood 
 in a dense mass before them, armed with pronged forks, clubs, and sticks. 
 With the greatest difficulty and personal danger to myself (having to take 
 the bayonets of the police in my hands and the muzzles of the guns and 
 turn them towards the ground to make room to stand between them in 
 order to separate them and the people) I induced the people to give up 
 their forks and pledge themselves not to use them again unless they were 
 attacked by the police. This occured about half-past ten o’clock, and was 
 the first of the affair. The people then remained quiet until after the 
 arrival of the county inspector, about half-past twelve o’clock, at which 
 time the county inspector ordered his men to charge and cut right and left, 
 the people being quite peaceful and orderly and quiet at the time, and 
 merely laughing at the horses of the police being stung by the bees. On 
 this order being given the people were attacked by the police, who charged 
 and struck all before them, during which attack John Moloney was mur¬ 
 dered. The police marched on, escorting the process-servers and Colonel 
 O’Callaghan to serve the writs. I and Mr. O’Hara, the resident magistrate, 
 proceeded immediately after them, seated on Mr. O’Hara’s car, my object 
 being to keep between the people and the police, and also to inform Mr. 
 O’Hara of the promise made by the people to keep themselves quiet if they 
 were not attacked, as Mr. O’Hara was in charge of the police forces. 
 Behind us came a body of mounted police, with the county inspector, and 
 after them the people who were prevented from advancing towards the 
 process-servers by the mounted police, the county inspector threatening to 
 cut the people up if they moved one inch further. The first body of foot 
 police, who were with the process-server, having turned off the high road 
 towards the first house to be served, two shots were fired from the right 
 
 D 
 
— 50 
 
 hand of the road at Mr. O’Hara and myself (or at any rate they whistled 
 close by us). I had promised the police to stand between them and the 
 people, as they said it was hard to stand to be stoned, and I replied, “They 
 will not stone you, for I will stand between you and them.” Immediately 
 some other shots were discharged from the heights on the left, which were 
 directed towards the police, who immediately returned fire, and scattered 
 all round the hill, firing at the point from which the shots came. Mean¬ 
 time the people who had been last in the procession and behind the horse- 
 police, jumped into the fields to the left and ran towards the house first to 
 be served, and from the heights behind which the shots were being tired. 
 This proves that there was no organized and preconcerted action, for the 
 people, if there had been, would have kept out of the range of the shots 
 fired from the heights. The police by this time had got round the hill and 
 fired from the height on the people as they came up, who were unarmed, 
 having given up their sticks and pitchforks in the morning. I saw many 
 of the people’s hats with bullet holes, and one policeman afterwards showed 
 me a bullet hole in the knee of his trousers. The county inspector swore 
 afterwards that a rifle bullet tore the ground under his feet after we had 
 left them. After this the police (who had been round the hill) and the 
 people, met at the side of the hill next the village. The police seized upon 
 the unarmed people and bandaged twenty-two of them. These were not 
 the people who had fired the shots, but the unarmed people who had 
 followed the police out of the village. They placed these handcuffed people 
 in their centre and led them along with the writ-server for the protection 
 of the police and the writ-server, and during the whole day—from two 
 o’clock till about half-past six—led them through the country serving writs 
 on their friends. They handcuffed them hand to hand, two and two, and 
 cut their braces and buttons off their trousers in order that they might be 
 obliged to use their unoccupied hands in holding up their trousers, which 
 some of them could not do so well, but that they kept tripping and 
 stumbling as they walked; also the ties of their shoes were cut so that 
 they might be impeded as they walked. They marched them on for six 
 hours in this state. On the return of the police to Ennis they were again 
 fired upon at Fortane, and one of the horses drawing the long car, on which 
 the county inspector sat, was shot dead. Another party of police travelling 
 at the same time towards Feakle was also fired on, and fortunately escaped 
 unhurt. 
 
 Mr. O’Hara was with this party, and his popularity protected 
 them, all the people being unwilling to fire on him. John Malony, 
 the man who was wounded by the police, died on the night of 
 that day, about 12 o’clock. The inquest was held on Tuesday, 
 the 3rd of June, and adjourned until the following Thursday, 
 
— 51 — 
 
 June 9 th, on which a most respectable jury had been empannelled. 
 The jury consisted of eighteen men of good repute. Neither the 
 Police nor the Crown brought forward any witnesses, nor evidence 
 of any kind, nor aided the inquiry in any way. The Coroner 
 expressed much surprise at the inaction of the Crown, and the 
 neglect of bringing forward evidence on its part. The verdict 
 was vrilfid murder against “ Some Policeman to them unknown” 
 with a rider condemning the action of the County Inspector for 
 ordering— 
 
 “ An unprovoked and wanton attack on a peaceful and defenceless 
 crowd of people.” 
 
 The medical evidence at the inquest was that John Malony died 
 from wounds inflicted by some blunt instrument, such as the 
 butt end of a gun; that he was perfectly “ healthy ” otherwise ; 
 and that the wounds were the sole cause of death. Two doctors 
 were examined, and both were quite agreed. 
 
 On the 27th of June a magisterial investigation was held at 
 Ennis by the resident magistrates—Col. McTernan and Capt. 
 O’Hara, assisted by Mr. Greene, J.P., of Ennis ; on which occa¬ 
 sion the Crown gave no assistance whatever, and even notice of 
 the day of the investigation was withheld from the knowledge of 
 the witnesses by the police until a late hour on Saturday—(so 
 late that they coidd not communicate with a lawyer to attend to 
 watch the case on the part of the next-of-kin of the murdered 
 man). On the inquiry coming on, an adjournment was asked for 
 on the part of the next-of-kin to get a lawyer to watch the case, 
 and bring forward witnesses. The County Inspector protested, 
 saying “ that there had been time enough,” and requested the 
 magistrate “ that the inquiry should go on.” The result of the 
 inquiry was that the case was returned to the Assizes—a verdict 
 of “ wilful murder in the discharge of his duty” being returned 
 against Sub-Constable O’Grady by the magistrates. They sent the 
 case to be tried at Ennis Assizes. O’Grady was never deprived 
 of liberty, but was brought up to Ennis, and let out on his own 
 recognizances. 
 
 On the 5th of July, the Crown, which should have taken up 
 
 d* 
 
— 52 — 
 
 tlie case, and prosecuted, not only did not do this, but withdrew 
 it even from the Grand Jury, after consulting with the Attorney- 
 General, by telegram, who ordered a Nolle Prosiqui to be entered, 
 which means in English “Don’t go on with it.” No more has 
 been heard of the case. 
 
 P. Murphy. 
 
 Statement of Patrick Purcell:— 
 
 On June 1st, ’81, about 9 o’clock in the morning, I saw people assem¬ 
 bling to Bodyke. I went, too, seeing all the other people going. I went as 
 a mere spectator, being in no way personally interested in what was going 
 on, my father having his land under Griffith’s valuation, under Lord 
 Bentinck, on a lease, and couldn’t expect it any cheaper. Got into Bodyke 
 about 9 o’clock in the morning. People were standing at Bodyke Cross. 
 The police rushed out from the barrack and rushed on the people, being 
 provoked by the boys shouting as the bees were stinging the horses. The 
 people stood their ground, and didn’t run away, notwithstanding the 
 police putting their bayonets to their breasts. The people had pitchforks 
 and held them up to the police, and said they would not move. At this 
 time Father Murphy came, and beat the people with his whip, and drove 
 them back from the police. He then remonstrated with the police on 
 their conduct. He made the people put away their sticks and pitchforks, 
 and promise to be quiet. He told the police he would guarantee they 
 would be quiet ; and the people were determined to adhere to the 
 promise they had made. All was quiet until about 12 o’clock, when the 
 County Inspector arrived with the writs-server. I was at the end of the 
 barrack wall. Apart from the bulk of the people the police were drawn 
 up in lines opposite the barrack door. The horse policemen drove down 
 towards the people from the upper end of the barrack. I did not see them 
 till they were close on me. The horses came down on me unawares. I 
 was looking at one of the driver’s horses that was rearing, as if stung, 
 and did not see the horses of the police till they were so close on me that 
 I could not escape, as there was a dense mass of people on the other side 
 of me. I raised my hand, with a little stick in it, to prevent myself from 
 being knocked down and ridden over. I hardly thought of what I was 
 doing it was so sudden. Mr. O’Hara called a policeman to arrest me. 
 When I heard that, I went up to Mr. O’Hara to explain how it was. The 
 horseman followed me to ride me down. Mr. O’Hara caught me by th e 
 collar ; I got out of his grasp. I was frightened at the horses. If it had 
 not been for that I should have stayed quiet. I ran away thro’ the crowd, 
 a policeman followed me, and took me. As he laid hold of me, I saw John 
 Malony reeling under the blows. I was then taken into the barracks, and 
 saw no more of it. I was afterwards brought up before Mr. O’Hara, who 
 sent me to prison for eight days for trying to save my life. 
 
Statement of Patrick Slattery:— 
 
 On the 1st of June last I came to the village about half-past seven 
 o’clock in the morning. I heard of writs going to be served on that day, 
 and I remained in Bodyke till a large number of the police came in. 
 There were some beehives upset before the police came in. (Some 
 say that the bees had swarmed ; I don’t know which). We were laughing 
 at the bees stinging the horses. There were some schoolboys groaning 
 and making a noise, but the elder people were all quite quiet. 
 When the police marched out of the barracks we had sticks and pitchforks, 
 but were not using them. The police began clubbing us with their rifles, 
 and fixed their swords, and stabbed two men. There were then some 
 stones thrown by the people. I believe they hit two policemen. (At least 
 they complained to Father Murphy that they did). Father Murphy then 
 came up, and went between the people and the police. He drove the 
 people back with his driving whip, and all the people then put away their 
 pitchforks and sticks by Father Murphy’s orders. All remained quiet 
 then until the County Inspector arrived from Ennis. He had five or six 
 mounted men along with him. In about half an hour after the County 
 Inspector arrived here the people were still again laughing at the bees. 
 They were stinging the horses’ ears, and there was some shouting going 
 on, but no violence whatever . The County Inspector ordered his mounted 
 men to “ charge,” and cut right and left , without any orders from the re¬ 
 sident magistrate, Mr. O’Hara, who was on the ground; but he was full 
 thirty yards from the Inspector at this time the order was given. The 
 County Inspector’s horse was coming close upon a man named Pat Purcell. 
 He raised his switch to strike the horse, so that he might not be cut down. 
 Mr. O’Hara then arrested Pat Purcell—(took him by the collar). The 
 foot police came running up. 'At this timer Purcell had wrung himself 
 away from Mr. O’Hara, and was running through the crowd, trying to get 
 away. There was an immense crowd at this time. The foot police caught 
 Purcell, and brought him towards the barrack. John Malony (the 
 deceased man) was standing opposite Pat Healy’s parlour window. I saw 
 Sub-Constable O' 1 Grady come up to Malony and strike him two blows of the 
 butt end of the rifle that he had in his hand. The second blow knocked 
 John Malony down. I saw him afterwards lying insensible at James 
 Healy’s house, where he died that night. I identified O’Grady at Tulla 
 on a Sunday soon after. I pointed him out to Sub-Inspector Crean as being 
 the man who struck Malony, and Inspector Crean refused to give me his 
 name—(this was about eleven o’clock on the Sunday morning). I again 
 went to Inspector Crean in the evening, and asked him, “ If he had. found 
 out the man’s name for me since?” as in the morning the reason he gave 
 for not naming him was “that he was a stranger to him,” and that he 
 himself (Inspector Crean) “ was not on duty at that time.” So I went 
 
— 54 — 
 
 again in the evening (the County Inspector was standing close by Inspector 
 Crean the second time). He told me “to go away, that I was drunk.” I 
 am willing to swear that I had not touched one drop of intoxicating liquor 
 at all that day. I identified O’Grady afterwards at Broadford barracks. 
 After the Coroner’s inquest here was finished (it had been an adjourned 
 inquest) I went to Broadford with Dominick Hogan, and I identified 
 him—(we both did so there). I then went with Hogan to Tulla. Saw 
 Sub-Inspector Crean again ; told him that I had seen O’Grady at Broad¬ 
 ford barracks, and that we came prepared to swear an information against 
 him. He refused to come along with us to a magistrate until he had in¬ 
 structions. We then went home and told Father Murphy. In a few days 
 after Mr. O’Hara sent for me, and I swore the informations to Mr. O’Hara 
 at Feakle barracks. I knew no more till I got notice to attend the inquiry 
 at Ennis. I did not receive the notice till late on Saturday night —so late 
 that I could not communicate with our solicitor at Limerick. I then went 
 to the inquiry on Monday (myself and Dominick Hogan). O’Grady was 
 sent for trial after the inquiry by Captain McTernan, B.M. We did not 
 hear a word more. We went to the Assizes—bound under penalty of £20 
 to go and give our evidence, but when we got there we heard nothing 
 more about it. I should wish to add that when O’Grady struck him 
 John Malony was not shouting, nor doing anything at all, but just 
 looking on. 
 
 Patrick Slattery. 
 
 Patrick Slattery is confirmed by Dominick Hogan. He 
 took me to Hogan, also to the Widow Malony and other 
 persons, to get the details of this affair. Slattery is a hard¬ 
 working, quiet man—sober and well-conducted. He said to 
 me several times, “ I shall be in prison for this.” I could not 
 believe such a thing likely, and replied in jest, “ So, perhaps, 
 shall I.” “ Ho,” he said; “You are an Englishwoman. They 
 
 won’t touch YOU ; but they’ll make me pay for it.” On the 20th 
 of July there was a very large meeting in London, at which I 
 told this story, and it made much impression, and was much 
 talked of. On the 25th of July, Patrick Slattery was arrested 
 under the Coercion Act, and lodged in Limerick Gaol. I wrote 
 to him expressing my sympathy, and received the following- 
 reply 
 
— 55 — 
 
 “ Limerick County Jail, 
 
 “ August 22nd. 
 
 “ Dear Miss Craigen, 
 
 “ I received your kind letter, and can assure you that I am very 
 thankful to you for your sympathy towards me. I was arrested on the 
 morning of the 25th of July, charged on my warrant with riot and shooting 
 at with intent to murder, and I can assure you that I am as innocent of the 
 charge as what you are. It appears they want to punish me for proving 
 on the policeman that killed John Malony at Bodyke; also for proving that 
 the County Inspector gave the order to charge at the same time. I will 
 now draw to a close, hoping that you are well. 
 
 “ I am respectfully yours, 
 
 “Patrick Slattery.” 
 
 That such a letter as this should, by any possibility, be written 
 in any part of the British dominions, is a disgrace to the English 
 people. I am no defender of murder. If Patrick Slattery was 
 guilty of “of shooting with intent to murder,” let them prove his 
 guilt, and punish him with the utmost rigour of the law. But , 
 till they DO, I believe in his innocence. I believe that he is in 
 prison, not because he attempted murder himself, but because he 
 is the innocent and inconvenient witness to a Government murder , 
 and, if there is one spark of manhood or love of liberty left in 
 the hearts of those who read these lines, they will join the little 
 band of English Radicals who demand, in the name of justice, 
 the repeal of the infamous Coercion Act. 
 
 Our next visit was to the Widow Malony. Her farm consists 
 of eighteen acres of stony mountain waste, of which two acres 
 only can be put under tillage. The rent is £8, the valuation 
 £5 10s. One son of the dead man is in America; but he has left 
 three girls, aged sixteen, fourteen, and eight years old. The house 
 is a rather comfortable one—it’s little attempts at improvement 
 and convenience confirming, by their silent witness, the account 
 given by the neighbours of John Malony’s character. They say 
 that he was a good-living, industrious husband and father. I 
 looked at the home, the fatherless children, and the widow sitting 
 by the turf fire, and, as her eyes met mine, my heart swelled. I 
 know how the heart bleeds when the eyes have that lonely look 
 
- 56 — 
 
 in them. I talked to her, but she took little heed till I happened 
 to speak of “ justicethen there was a sudden flashing of fire 
 into her eyes, as she said, “ There is no justice for us.” “ But,” I 
 said, “ if we could get the man who did it taken up, and tried 
 and punished, would you not wish it?” “No,” she answered, 
 slowly and calmly; “ I forgive him for the Blessed Saviour’s 
 sake.” But I urged her still, telling her that out of regard for 
 others, to prevent such things from being done, he should be 
 tried in court; and I said, “ Give me your authority to ask 
 the people in England for justice in your name.” Her face 
 worked with an inward struggle, and she answered: “Yes, for 
 the sake of other people there should be justice, but I forgive 
 him.” Before that bitter sorrow, mastered and subdued by 
 Christian faith, I felt myself humbled and instructed. I could 
 not say another word. 
 
 We went round the farm. On our return she was up spreading 
 the table to give us some sweet milk, which was all she had to 
 offer. She then gave us the following particulars :— 
 
 My husband was a steady, good man; he never drank nor stayed away 
 from me, and lonesome I am without him now. On the 1st of June, about 
 ten in the morning, we heard the bell ringing, and he said he would go and 
 see what was the matter. I told him to go, for he’d be the better of a 
 walk. Abont six in the evening, a little girl came and told me he was hurt, 
 and the priest and the doctor were with him. I went down to Bodyke ; 
 when I got there he was in a deep sleep—he never knew me, nor spoke to 
 me again. He died at twelve at night, and never once opened his eyes to 
 look at me—never once till he died, and never was sensible when I spoke to 
 him. It was all like a dream, and I often sit and think I hear his footsteps 
 coming in at the door. I seem to forget that he is gone for a little while, 
 and then feel it worse afterwards. 
 
 I have given this testimony as it was given to me. It is a 
 one-sided statement, no doubt; but why is it so ? Simply because 
 the Government withdrew the case from trial and would not let 
 both sides be heard; if this evidence be untrue, let them liberate 
 Patrick Slattery from Limerick Prison, and go on with the trial 
 of Sub-Constable O’Grady for wilful murder. 
 
 When we came back from the widow’s house, we went into 
 the little parlour of the hotel at Bodyke. The soft air of the 
 
— 57 — 
 
 July night came through the open window, and the candle on 
 the table flickered in the breeze with an uncertain light. I sat 
 silent, oppressed with the unspeakable sadness of what we had 
 seen and heard. Slattery said to me:—“ After all, of what use is 
 our trouble if we did get it tried. There is no court in Ireland 
 that would do justice.” I said there is one court that I think 
 would do justice, if the case would be brought before it, and 
 that is the court of English public opinion. “But who,” he said, 
 “shall bring it there?” I replied, “ I am only a very poor woman, 
 but God helping me, I will try to do so.” 
 
 I have tried, and am trying still; I have given these particulars 
 at every public meeting I have spoken at, but the press has never 
 reported them. I tell them here, I have not much power with 
 my pen, but such power as I have, of speech and pen, is conse¬ 
 crated to the cause of justice. 
 
 Before this court of public opinion I impeach the members of 
 the present Government as accomplices in this murder. By 
 sheltering the murderer, they made themselves accessory to his 
 crime. At the last general election, in the name of justice, the 
 English people sent these men to power, but not for this —not to 
 oppress the poor, and imprison the innocent with the guilty, and 
 stifle down in darkness and silence the shedding of innocent 
 blood. I call on every Liberal who has a conscience, to give no 
 support to those who suspended the constitution, that they might 
 defend law and order for the rich against the poor, and then 
 interfered with the course of ordinary law, when it .might 
 have protected the poor from the oppression of the rich. One 
 of the noblest of living Englishwomen, the inheritress of the 
 free spirit, of the greatest defender of liberty by the might of 
 intellect the age has seen, was reviled in the public press for 
 speaking of some of our ministers as “Hypocrites.” My heart 
 has burnt, when I have seen her name assailed. To me she is 
 sacred, a memory of greatness hallows her; a reflected glory shines 
 round about her; a name to which the world owes an everlasting 
 tribute of gratitude is breathed along with hers like mingled music. 
 
 I am not given to angry words, but I ask of those who villified 
 Miss Helen Taylor for her speech, by what name would they call 
 
— 58 — 
 
 the men who withdrew from the grand jury at Ennis the charge of 
 murder against Sub-Constable O’Grady, sheltering the murderer 
 by tampering with the law, and then stood up in the House of 
 Commons and prated about law and order in defence of the im¬ 
 prisonment of untried men ? What are they ? There is a time 
 for all things, and now when the liberty of one nation is being 
 endangered to keep another in slavery, is not the time to soothe 
 the consciences of waverers with soft speeches and honied words. 
 So did not the prophets of olden time; they spoke out bravely, 
 denouncing wrong as wrong, and calling evil by its name, but 
 in our generation, the prophets have passed away, and their 
 mantles have fallen upon women. 
 
 In the name of the next-of-kin of the murdered man, I ask 
 that the trial of Sub-Constable O’Grady for the murder of John 
 Malony, shall go on, and I call on every Englishman and woman 
 who loves justice, to take up my demand and enforce it. 
 
 I have now done what little I could to lay before my readers 
 a sketch of the nature and doings of the Irish centralized police. 
 It is an institution abhorrent to the genius of the English Consti¬ 
 tution, hateful to the Irish people, dangerous to English freedom, 
 If such an institution is necessary to maintain English rule in 
 Ireland, let Ireland go her way without us; better to lose 
 fifty Irelands (if we had them) than to lose ourselves; but in 
 reality we are losing Ireland by our tyranny, our cruelty, our op¬ 
 pression. We are sowing the seeds of civil war. The Celtic 
 nature is one of brooding passion. Through sleepless nights and 
 gloomy days, the people nurse their bitterness of soul till they 
 hate us with that concentrated fury which is the surest pledge of 
 war. 
 
 The simple truth is, England really wishes to-day to do 
 righteously to Ireland, but in her stubborn egotism and self- 
 sufficient pride, believes that she must settle everything according 
 to her own notions of what is just; the mischief is in the stolid 
 vanity, which will not see that it can be mistaken in its judgment, 
 which demands unlimited submission on the part of Ireland to 
 
— 59 — 
 
 the beneficent plans of those who neither know (nor care to know) 
 the limitations of Irish nature, or the aspirations of Irish hearts; 
 for this evil there is only one remedy—Self-Government for 
 Ireland. Let the people make and administer their own laws 
 in federation with England. Then Ireland will be a strength and 
 not a weakness to us; a nation in union, with our own, united to 
 us by the bonds of amity and justice. 
 
 Concluding Kemarks. 
 
 On our return from Ireland several meetings were held, at 
 which the delegates spoke. I attended them with much diffi¬ 
 culty, as I was very ill. I was most intensely anxious to hold 
 meetings, to work continually in the agitation on behalf of Ire¬ 
 land, and I found myself hindered by circumstances beyond my 
 control, and the entire want of assistance from any other person. 
 After some weeks spent in this painful state, some meetings 
 were , held in the North, of which the result was not on the whole 
 very satisfactory. On the arrest of the Irish leaders I came back 
 to London, and took a share in the indignation meetings got up 
 by the Democratic Federation, and I had the honour of being one 
 of the speakers at the magnificent demonstration held in Hyde 
 Park as a protest against the proclamation of the Land League. 
 
 After this the difficulties in my path became absolutely in¬ 
 superable. I could obtain no aid or help to overcome them, and 
 my health entirely broke down. I was too ill to continue to 
 work, and have been almost incapable of exertion during the 
 whole of the winter. 
 
 With the publication of this Report my duty as a member of 
 the Delegation ends. I have done it faithfully and honestly to 
 the best of my ability; but my responsibility to the poor people 
 with whom it brought me in contact is NOT at an end. The 
 action of the English Government is driving the masses of the 
 Irish people to desperation (almost to madness) ; the desire for 
 separation is spreading and deepening into passionate intensity. 
 England meets this attitude of desperate struggle with increased 
 determination to hold down Ireland by the iron hand of brute 
 
60 — 
 
 force. So the animosities of both peoples are more and more 
 excited, and we drift onwards towards the horrors of civil war. 
 Against war in all its forms I protest as contrary to the law of 
 God and the highest interests of humanity. 
 
 But to avert war we must do justice. Ireland held down by 
 50,000 soldiers, with a centralized police preying upon her heart, 
 and a Coercion Act gagging her free speech, may be strangled into 
 silence, but can never be at peace. To secure peace we must do 
 justice—we must have faith in the eternal principles of liberty 
 and love. 
 
 In what manner can those who feel this great truth best act— 
 best make that feeling manifest ? 
 
 In dealing with this question, I am deeply conscious of my 
 own insignificance; but because I can do very little I will not 
 shrink from speaking freely, and striving to do the little that I can. 
 
 First, then, for England there should be a separate but friendly 
 movement to give justice to Ireland. We owe a heavy debt to that 
 country. Seven centuries of misrule rise up in judgment against 
 us—the men of those past ages have gone to their graves leaving 
 to us the bitter inheritance of the wrong they did. We cannot 
 call them back to answer for their deeds ; but to us belongs the 
 duty of atoning for them. A rough plan of such an organization 
 might be as follows : 
 
 The scattered men and women who desire to help the cause 
 might be united as members of an organization to be called 
 “The Eriends of Ireland Association.” The objects to be— 
 
 First—The extension to Ireland of the power of self-govern¬ 
 ment by the establishment of a Local Parliament for Ireland in 
 federation with England under the same supreme power. 
 
 Secondly—The attainment of peasant proprietary and the 
 nationalization of the Irish land by the Government purchase of 
 the land and sale to the actual cultivators. 
 
 Thirdly—The abolition of the Royal Irish Constabulary, and 
 the restoration of the control of the police to the Irish ratepayers. 
 
 Fourthly—The repeal of the Coercion Acts, and the defence of 
 the constitutional rights of Irish subjects in courts of law. 
 
 The means of carrying out these views to be public agitation 
 
— 61 — 
 
 by the press and platform, and the constitutional action of the 
 voters at the polls. 
 
 In suggesting this I am deeply sensible of my own help¬ 
 lessness in the matter. I can do very little towards carrying out 
 this good work; but what I can do I will. If any friends will 
 get up public meetings, I will come to any part of the country to 
 address them. If any one wishing this will write to me at Ho. 
 45, Devonshire Street, Queen’s Square, London, W.C., I will give 
 the letter immediate attention. 
 
 Secondly —If any persons who would be willing to be mem¬ 
 bers of such an association will write to me at the same address 
 I can, at least, perform the small service of putting such persons 
 in communication with each other. There are many Englishmen 
 and women who would gladly combine to do justice to Ireland, 
 if only they knew each other, and had any means of expressing 
 their feelings on the subject. By enabling them to come into 
 correspondence with each other, I may do a little for the cause 
 I have so deeply at heart. I believe that the mere knowledge 
 that such an association was extending itself in England would 
 do more to restore peace to Ireland than can be done by any 
 number of armed men, whose presence only serves to call forth 
 the angry passions of the Irish people, and to intensify the 
 hatred of English rule. 
 
 Another thing that should be done at the present juncture is 
 to petition Parliament for the repeal of the Coercion Acts. This 
 could be done whenever a few persons could be found who 
 (without necessarily agreeing with the whole programme here 
 sketched out) were desirous of making a protest against the in¬ 
 justice and immorality of the principle embodied in the Coercion 
 Acts. 
 
 I give a form of petition which I have myself made use of. 
 
 To the Honourable the Commons of Great Britain and Ireland, in Parliament 
 
 Assembled. 
 
 The Humble Petition of the Undersigned Inhabitants of 
 Sheweth :— 
 
 That your petitioners regard the “Act for the Better Protection of Person 
 and Property in Ireland, 1881,” as violating the essential principles of the 
 
— 62 — 
 
 British constitution, and as an outrage on the first principles of natural 
 justice. 
 
 That your petitioners believe that the operation of this Act must tend to 
 increase discontent and disaffection in Ireland, and to intensify the disorders 
 of that country, and the difficulty of governing it. 
 
 Therefore your petitioners humbly pray your Honourable House to pass 
 a measure for the immediate and total repeal of the “ Act for the Better Pro¬ 
 tection of Person and Property in Ireland, 1881,” and the restoration to Irish 
 subjects of the rights of constitutional government and law, and your 
 petitioners will ever pray, &c. 
 
 If only a dozen persons in any place will sign this, it is worth 
 while to make the protest. Write the petition carefully out; 
 sign it with two or three names on the same sheet as that which 
 contains the written heading, other sheets being pasted on with 
 other names; the persons signing it must write the full Christian 
 and surname and postal address, in pen and ink, on one side of 
 the paper only. It should then be sent for presentation. If any 
 difficulty should arise, in consequence of the members being from 
 any cause unable to present the petitions, they can be sent to 
 Joseph Cowen, Esq., M.P. for Newcastle-upon-Tyne; but of course 
 it will be better if the local member can perform the duty. 
 
 That which the Irish people need is not “ Coercion,” but 
 justice and sympathy. That the hands of any number of English 
 men and women should be stretched out to help them to attain 
 the self-government they ask for; that tenderness and respect for 
 Irish nationality should breathe itself from English lips, taking 
 the place of cold misconstruction and bitter insult, this would be 
 a balm to present irritation, a pledge of future justice. May 
 these poor words of mine be helpful in drawing many English 
 hearts together—hearts desirous of unity and peace—to join the 
 little band of English men and women who have already dared 
 to claim the honour of defending the Irish Land League—to be 
 of the small minority which is not carried away by the tide of 
 prejudice, nor frightened with a foolish scare—who claim their 
 place (a little spot, but still a place) amongst the prophets and 
 seers of all time, those who foretell the future by resistance to 
 the present; who have struggled for liberty against an incensed 
 majority; who have received the power to lift their voices above 
 
— 63 — 
 
 the storm of common prejudice with a clear note of truth, and 
 send it ringing on to waken echoes through all space and time. 
 
 Before our eyes the slavery of ages is breaking loose; if we 
 may lay our bands upon its chain, and sever but one link of its 
 feeblest fetter, our duty is a noble one. 
 
 Ireland is being born to freedom. The formless masses of a 
 downtrodden people are organizing themselves into the first 
 elements of a self-governed nation. English as well as Irish 
 freedom is at stake. Misgovernment in Ireland will sow the 
 seeds of tyranny in England, if it be not resisted. To offer this 
 resistance is to-day the work of a misunderstood and abused 
 minority. The defence of liberty is often painful, but always 
 glorious; the pain will pass away; the glory is ours for ever. A 
 day will come in which the masses of the English people will 
 swell our ranks, and demand with us justice for Ireland. 
 
 May the Almighty Father of all His children give the blessing 
 of His spirit to this weak effort to hasten the dawning of that 
 day of liberty, in peace and not in war. 
 

 
 
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