RESCUE OF THE MILITARY FENIANS.
Before concluding the section of my Recollections connected with
Fenianism, I must re-introduce John Breslin, the rescuer of James
Stephens.
Though the episode I am about to describe took place some six years
after the commencement of the constitutional Home Rule agitation, I
think it well, as it was connected with Fenianism, for the sake of
compactness, to introduce it here.
My excuse for introducing it as part of _my_ recollections will be seen
further on.
It will be remembered that John Breslin, when a warder in Richmond
Prison, was the man who actually opened the door of James Stephens's
cell, and, with the aid of Byrne, another warder, helped the Head Centre
over the prison wall, and left him in charge of John Ryan and other
friends outside.
It was no wonder, then, that, when a similar perilous and even more
arduous undertaking was projected, John Breslin should be the man chosen
as the chief instrument to carry it out.
This was the rescue of six military Fenians from Freemantle, in Western
Australia, which was ultimately effected on Easter Monday, 17th April,
1876.
The enterprise was projected in America, among its most active
promoters being John Devoy. Associated with him were John Boyle O'Reilly
(himself an escaped Fenian convict) and Captain Hathaway, City Marshal
of New Bedford. An American barque, of 202 tons, the _Catalpa_, was
bought, and converted into a whaler, but was intended to be used in
carrying off the convicts. She was ready for sea in March, 1875. It was
more than a year before she took the prisoners away from Australia, and
a further four months before she reached New York with the rescued men.
The ship was taken out by Captain S. Anthony, an American, to whom was
confided the object of the mission. The only Irishman on board among the
crew was Denis Duggan, the carpenter, a sterling Nationalist, to whom
also was made known the mission on which they were bound.
As John Breslin was now in America, obviously he was the man of all
others to entrust with the command of the daring project of carrying off
the prisoners. Happily he was available for the work, and entered into
it heartily. He sent me the narrative of the rescue himself--through his
brother Michael--on his return to America, after having successfully
accomplished his mission.
He and Captain Desmond sailed from San Francisco on the 13th of
September, 1875, and reached Freemantle on 16th of November. They were
not long in opening up communications with the prisoners, so as to be in
readiness for the arrival of the _Catalpa_. In the meantime two more men
joined the expedition--John King, who brought a supply of money from
New Zealand, which was most useful, and Thomas Brennan, who arrived at
the last moment, just as the _Catalpa_ appeared off the coast, and had
got into communication with Breslin.
Everything being arranged, it was determined to carry off the following
prisoners--Martin Harrington, Thomas Darragh, James Wilson, Martin
Joseph Hogan, Robert Cranston, and Thomas Henry Hassett. They were at
work outside the prison walls, or at other employment equally
accessible, when they were taken away in two traps from Freemantle,
about nine o'clock in the morning of the 17th of April, 1876. By the
time the news of their flight, and of the direction they had taken, was
known in the prison, the party had reached Rockingham, and were on the
sea in the whale-boat which was to take them to the _Catalpa_.
The gunboat _Conflict_, which was usually stationed at King George's
Sound, was telegraphed for by the authorities, but it was found that the
wires had been cut the previous night, and by the time they were
repaired the vessel had gone on a cruise.
After some hours' delay, the governor engaged the passenger steamer
_Georgette_ to go in pursuit. It was nine o'clock that evening before
she left Freemantle. The police boat was cruising about also, looking
for the whaler and her boat. The _Georgette_ came up with the _Catalpa_
about 8 o'clock on the following (Tuesday) morning. A demand to go on
board and search the barque was refused. As it was found there was a
short supply aboard the _Georgette_, she returned to Freemantle to coal,
leaving the police boat to watch the _Catalpa_, and to look out for the
whale boat containing the rescued men, which had not yet appeared,
although, as it turned out, not far off at the time. The boat had been
vainly searching for the _Catalpa_ all night, and had only now
discovered her. The party in the boat had actually seen the _Georgette_
overhauling the _Catalpa_, and had yet themselves remained undiscovered.
In order to keep clear of falling into the hands of the _Georgette_ they
stood off from the ship, and it was about half-past two o'clock in the
afternoon before the boat containing the rescued men approached the
_Catalpa_ again. They then saw the police boat making for the ship at
about the same distance from her on the land side as the whale boat was
to the seaward. The men scrambled aboard just as the police boat was
coming up on the other side.
Breslin says:--"As soon as my feet struck the deck over the quarter
rail, Mr. Smith, the first mate, called out to me, 'What shall I do now,
Mr. Collins (this was the name Breslin went by); what shall I do?' I
replied, 'Hoist the flag, and stand out to sea;' and never was a
manoeuvre executed in a more prompt and seamanlike manner."
The police boat did not attempt to board the vessel, but made its way
back to Freemantle to report. There the _Georgette_ had been fully
coaled and provisioned, and had taken aboard, in addition to the
pensioners and police, a twelve-pounder field-piece. At 11 o'clock the
same night (Tuesday) she steamed out once more. At daylight on the
following morning she came up with the _Catalpa_ again, and fired a
round shot across her bows. After some parleying, Captain Anthony being
prompted by Breslin, the _Georgette_ hailed that if the _Catalpa_ did
not heave to, the masts would be blown out of her.
"Tell them," said Breslin to the captain, "that's the American flag; you
are on the high seas; and if he fires on the ship, he fires on the
American flag."
Preparations were made to give the armed party on the _Georgette_ a warm
reception should they attempt to board the whaler. But the pursuers had
a wholesome fear of coming into conflict with a vessel sailing under the
Stars and Stripes, and, after some further parleying, left the _Catalpa_
to pursue her homeward voyage unmolested.
I was fortunate enough to get the account of _both_ expeditions--for
there were two--for the rescue of the military Fenians in each case
direct from the man having the command.
I have already given John Breslin's account, which, it will, perhaps, be
remembered I published at the time as a number of my penny "Irish
Library."
I had the pleasure of hearing John Walsh, who had charge of the
expedition from this country, relating the part he and his friend bore
in assisting the Irish-American rescuers. He told the story at a very
select gathering in Liverpool, at which I was present. On the 13th of
January, he said, two men, of whom he was one, left this country with
money and clothing to carry out the rescue. They landed on the 28th of
February at King George's Sound, whence a sailing vessel took them to
Freemantle.
They soon got into communication with the two men who had come from
America, and had been on the spot since November, 1875--John Breslin and
J. Desmond, the latter of whom worked as a coach-builder at Perth. Walsh
and his friend offered their co-operation to the men from America in any
capacity, and arrangements were made accordingly. They lent the
Americans arms, and they cut the telegraph wires from Perth to King
George's Sound, where a man-of-war was stationed.
It will be seen from Breslin's account that this was why the man-of-war
was not available to deal with the _Catalpa_; for when the telegraphic
communication was restored, it was found that the gunboat _Conflict_ had
left on a cruise.
Walsh and his friend were on the ground on the morning when the
prisoners started to escape, and if a fight took place, they were to
fight and fly with their friends. If there was no fight, they were to
remain behind. If the _Catalpa_ failed, they were to fly to the bush,
with the exception of some who were to remain behind to succour those in
the bush.
John Walsh described how, when the rescued men were being driven in two
traps from Freemantle to Rockingham, to be taken on the whale-boat to
the _Catalpa_, which was lying off the coast awaiting them, he and his
friend started with them, and remained behind to stop pursuit. He also
described the attempt to recapture the escaped men, as told in Breslin's
narrative, and how the attempt failed.
My own connection with this incident was that the funds, or some part
of them, for John Walsh's expedition passed through my hands between
their collection and their distribution.
On Monday, August 21st, 1876, while we were holding the Annual
Convention of the Home Rule Confederation of Great Britain, in the
Rotunda, Dublin, the joyful news reached us that the _Catalpa_, having
on board the rescued men and their rescuers, had safely reached New
York. The news was received with the wildest enthusiasm. The terrible
strain of the last four months had passed, and we were relieved from the
constant dread that, after the gallant rescue, the men might again fall
into the hands of the enemy.
A few more words about the Breslins before finishing this chapter.
Michael went back to America after his escape from arrest in Birmingham.
I have corresponded with him from time to time ever since. A letter of
mine to Michael, written after he finally went to America, came back to
me in a very curious manner. A gentleman came into my place of business
in Liverpool one day, and presented to me, as an introduction, a letter
I had sent to my friend about a month previously. I was somewhat
suspicious about this. I told him there was nothing to show that my
letter had ever been in Breslin's hands at all. The gentleman agreed
that I was right, and said he would merely ask to be allowed to leave
his luggage for a short time.
I got a careful watch kept on his movements in Liverpool, but nothing
more suspicious was reported than that he had been seen to enter a
Catholic church, where he had gone to Confession.
My friend William Hogan was in my place when my messenger returned, and
when he heard this, exclaimed, in his usual impetuous style--"He's a
spy!"
The deduction might not seem obvious, but, doubtless Hogan had in his
mind one or two of the worst cases of the anti-Fenian informers, who
made a parade of great piety a cloak for their treachery.
The gentleman returned and reclaimed his luggage, and I heard nothing
further of him for about a month afterwards, when I had a letter from
Michael Breslin, saying that his friend, whom I had treated with such
suspicion and such scant hospitality, was Mr. John B. Holland, the
famous submarine inventor. He was, I believe, in this country in
connection with his invention.
It may be asked, after all, what did Fenianism do for Ireland? To those
who ask the question I would answer that no honest effort for liberty
has ever been made in vain. If Fenianism did nothing else, it kept alive
the tradition and the spirit of freedom among Irishmen, and handed them
on to the next generation. In so far as the men who took part in it were
unselfish, were whole-souled lovers of their country, and prepared to
risk life and liberty for their country's sake--and I think with pride
of the thousands of such men I knew or knew of--then the whole Irish
race was ennobled and lifted up from the mire of serfdom.
But it did more than merely make martyrs. Its strength, its spontaneity,
and the devotion of its adherents were such that they undoubtedly
awakened not merely some alarm, but also some sense of justice in
England.
Gladstone admitted that what first prompted him to set in motion the
movement for the disestablishment of the Irish Church was "the intensity
of Fenianism." But the result did not end there. For many an Englishman
was moved to the belief that surely there must be something wrong with a
system which provoked such a movement, something not wholly bad about a
cause for which men went with calm, proud confidence to the felon's cell
or the scaffold. And, even to-day, England--with all her secret service
facilities--does not know one-half of the danger from which she escaped;
nor can I repeat much of what I myself could say of Fenianism in
England.
There are men who have made large fortunes in business; there are
eminent men in many of the professions, whose former connection with
Fenianism is unsuspected, who, at the time, if the call had been made
upon them, would cheerfully have thrown aside their careers and taken
their places in the ranks.
Once again "a soul came into Ireland," and men were capable then of high
enterprises which to-day seem to belong to another age.
Even for myself, I have many times marvelled how light-heartedly in
those days I took the risks of conspiracy--how little it troubled me
that there were dozens of men who bore my liberty, and perhaps my life,
in their hands. But I never doubted them--and I was right!