GONNE'S WATCH.
In the year 1810 a manufacturing goldsmith of high respectability, named
Gonne, lived in Crow Street, Dublin. His establishment was noted for the
superior execution of chased work, especially in watch cases, and he had
occasionally extensive orders from the house of Roskill, of Liverpool,
the reputation of which for watches and chronometers, was then, as it is
still, extremely high. Mr. Gonne indulged himself in the purchase of a
splendid gold watch of Roskill's best make, and prided himself greatly
on the possession of an article not to be surpassed either in exquisite
ornamentation or accuracy of movement. He was fond of pedestrian
excursions, and his hours of relaxation were frequently devoted to a
ramble along the low road to Lucan, which is certainly not inferior in
picturesque scenery, to any other of the many beautiful localities in
the vicinity of Dublin; but on one night Mr. Gonne came home greatly
disgusted with his promenade, and avowing a determination never again to
set foot on _that nasty road_. He did not bring home his beautiful
watch, and it transpired that a man, of small stature, had disturbed an
agreeable revery by requesting to be accommodated with whatsoever money
Mr. Gonne had in his possession, and that he also expressed great
admiration of his watch, and insisted on the immediate delivery of that
article. The propinquity of a pistol to Mr. Gonne's breast, induced a
speedy compliance with the disagreeable demand. On his arrival in
Dublin, Gonne declared that he had been robbed by _a little tailor_. He
stated that the fellow's features were concealed by a veil, and that as
soon as he got the watch and a small sum of money into his possession,
he managed to ascend the wall of Woodlands demesne with surprising
agility, and on it he seated himself _cross-legged_. He then addressed
the victim of his depredation by name, and assured him that his watch
should be safely kept, and that an opportunity should be afforded for
redeeming it for ten pounds. Gonne apprised the authorities of the
outrage which he had suffered. He declared that he never, to his
knowledge, beheld the robber before; that he did not recognise his
voice, but felt satisfied that he was a tailor, from the manner in which
he sat on the wall. An experienced peace-officer who heard the
description, agreed with Gonne that the delinquent was a tailor, and
added that he knew the man. It appeared that there was a little knight
of the thimble, of most remarkable activity, named Flood; he was of
dissipated habits, and was known at the racket-court in John's Lane,
where his play was most astonishing. He rarely missed a ball, and none
would encounter him in a match of rackets, unless at very great odds.
Flood was sought for, but was not forthcoming. Several of the provincial
towns were searched in vain, and it was supposed that he had left the
country, when he was apprehended, almost in the act of committing a
highway robbery on the Rock-road, which at that time constituted a
portion of the City of Dublin. His haunts were discovered and searched,
and several articles of value, supposed to have been acquired by highway
robbery, were found. There was a case quite sufficient for the
conviction of Flood in the affair for which he was apprehended; but it
was deemed expedient to investigate several other charges, and amongst
them the robbery of Mr. Gonne, who minutely detailed all the
circumstances of his disagreeable adventure on the Lucan Road, but he
could not identify the prisoner. He was then directed by the divisional
magistrate of police, before whom the case was pending, to pass round to
the rere of the bench and view a number of watches which were in a
drawer, of which the magistrate had the key. His watch was not amongst
them. Flood was committed for trial, and sent to Newgate on two other
charges, but the robbery of Mr. Gonne was not considered one on which an
indictment could be sustained.
At the period to which this narrative refers, there was in Ireland a
Lord Lieutenant belonging to the highest rank of nobility. His tastes
and amusements were rather unlike those of his successors. His personal
undertaking was quite sufficient for the disposal of three or four
bottles of claret after dinner. He was so good a judge of whisky-punch
as to impart to Kinahan's LL its peculiar designation and much of its
popularity amongst "choice spirits." He dined at Donnybrook fair,
_upstairs in a tent_,[4] visited John's Well in its pattern days, took
oyster suppers at "Queen Casey's" cellar in Britain Street, patronized
an occasional cockle party at Dollymount, superintended matches of
single-stick in the riding school, witnessed what was then termed the
"Royal Sport of Cock-fighting" in Clarendon Street; and his fingers were
no strangers to "the gloves." But his favourite amusement was harmless
and graceful. He played rackets frequently in John's Lane, and took
great pleasure in witnessing a match well contested by first-rate
players. At the time of Flood's detection, his Excellency was making a
tour through the south of Ireland, and after an interval of a few weeks,
he returned to Dublin, to receive some English visitors of
distinguished position and convivial tendencies. Amongst them was Lord
Sydney Osborne, who prided himself upon his skill at rackets, and who on
the day of his arrival stated at the viceregal table, that he was open
to play "any man in the world" for a thousand guineas. His Excellency
immediately took up the wager, and engaged to find a successful
competitor for his noble guest. It was stipulated that the match should
be played within three weeks, at the racket-court of the Kildare Street
Club. On the following morning the Lord Lieutenant proceeded to John's
Lane, and apprised the marker of the racket-court that he wished to find
a little fellow whom he had frequently seen there, and whom he described
as the most expert player that had ever come under his observation, as
one who had distanced all his antagonists, but he had forgotten his
name.
"My Lord," replied the marker, "I think your Excellency means Flood."
"Yes, yes, I now recollect the name; I want him particularly, for I have
wagered a large sum on a match between him and an English gentleman, and
if he wins, I shall reward him amply."
"Murder! murder!" exclaimed the marker, "your Grace must lose. Flood
can't play your match, _he is to be hung on Saturday_. He played rackets
well, but he played some queer tricks, too. He used to go looking for
watches and purses on the roads outside Dublin, and he was caught at
last, just near Merrion churchyard. Baron George tried him, and he was
found guilty. The judge told him to expect no mercy, so he is to die at
Newgate on Saturday."
"'Tis a d----d business," said his Excellency.
"Indeed it's likely to end that way," replied the marker, "for he was
rather loosely conducted, and now he has but a very short time to make
his soul."
His Excellency departed greatly disconcerted; he felt that he had been
too hasty in his wager. His thousand guineas appeared to be hopelessly
gone, and he could not bear to think how Lord Sydney Osborne would
chuckle at a walk over. He dined that day in Stephen's Green with his
very intimate friend, Sir Hercules Langrishe, to whom he took an
opportunity of communicating his unpleasant predicament. To his great
surprise, Sir Hercules did not appear to think that there was much
difficulty in the matter, and he even intimated his willingness to back
Flood for a hundred or two. "There is no danger," observed the baronet,
"of a change of ministry; you will be Lord Lieutenant for some years; so
the sooner you give Flood a pardon, and set him to practise for the
match, the better chance for your wager."
"Could there be a memorial got up in his favor?" suggested his
Excellency.
"It would not be advisable," replied Sir Hercules; "it would make the
affair a public topic. No, that would not do; just send over a pardon
to-morrow; let Flood come to me. I shall procure liberty for the fellow
to practise at the Shelbourne Barracks, and he also can get into the
court at the club at early hours, as it is there that the match is to be
played."
It was soon known that Flood was saved. The motive was left to public
ingenuity to discover, and, consequently, every reason except the true
one was assigned. It was supposed by many that he had given some
valuable information about a recent mail-coach robbery; but in the
meanwhile, he had been made aware of the high opinion entertained of his
skill as a racket-player, and the expectations that he would win the
match.
Full of gratitude for having been rescued from the gallows, he promised
to win, and redeemed his promise. His noble antagonist was an excellent
player, but in hand, eye, and agility, the tailor was greatly superior.
The nobleman became agitated and lost his temper, which was speedily
followed by his money. His aristocratic feelings were not, however,
outraged by even a suspicion of the fact, that he was defeated by a
little tailor, who, if the law had been permitted to take its course,
would have "shuffled off his mortal coil" in front of Newgate; and who
had been liberated from the condemned cell only for the purpose of
liberating a thousand guineas from the pocket of a duke's brother.
His Excellency gave Flood fifty pounds and some good advice, suggesting
a removal from Dublin and even from Ireland; but Flood was for some time
unwilling to depart. He remained in a city where he could only be known
as "the unhanged one," and where his character could not be retrieved.
His trade was useless. He could not obtain any employment. His money was
soon exhausted, and he had an insuperable objection to recur to his
former habit of taking nocturnal strolls in quest of watches and purses.
Unwilling to give the law another _lien_ on his neck, he at length
determined to leave Ireland as soon as he could obtain means of crossing
the Channel. Mr. Gonne was rather surprised by receiving a visit from
him, and still more by the request of a couple of pounds. The
indignation of a man who had been robbed of his watch and money exploded
at once. He assured Flood of his sincere regret and deep disappointment
at the gallows having been shamefully defrauded of its due. He then
informed him, in terms more plain than polite, that he could not expect
any contribution on the voluntary principle, but that a reasonable
expenditure would be willingly incurred to procure a halter, if its
application to Flood's neck was guaranteed. The "unhanged one" bore all
this very meekly, and said that he had a simple and intelligible
proposal to make, namely, that Mr. Gonne should lodge two pounds in the
hands of a certain person, on condition that the money should be
restored if the watch was not recovered by its owner; but if the article
was obtained for Mr. Gonne, Flood was to receive the deposit, to enable
him to leave Dublin for ever.
This offer was acceded to, and the cash was lodged with Jack Stevenson
of St. Andrew Street. Jack was a man of very extensive connections. He
had nephews and nieces in abundance; and whenever any of them wished to
retire plate, jewels, or trinkets from the vulgar gaze, Jack, like an
affectionate uncle, _advanced_, and took charge of the valuable
articles. He adorned the space between his front windows with the
ancient crest of Lombardy, three golden apples; and his transactions
with his relatives were of such a particular nature, that they were
recorded _in duplicate_. He had known Flood in his early days, before he
had become an adept either in racket-playing or robbing. He consented to
hold the money subject to the specified conditions; and then Flood and
Gonne proceeded to the last place to which it might be imagined that the
steps of the former would be voluntarily directed, namely, to the Police
Office, where he had been charged, and from whence he had been
committed. There he told Gonne to remain at the exterior door; and as
the Office was about to be closed for the day, he desired him to ask the
magistrate when he came out, what was the exact time. Gonne complied
with this direction, and His Worship readily, but rather too hastily,
produced a watch. No sooner was it displayed than its appearance
elicited the most disagreeable oath ever sworn before the "worthy
justice," for Gonne instantly explained, "By G----! that's my watch."
Gonne obtained his watch, and was with great difficulty persuaded to
refrain from bringing the transaction under the notice of the Executive.
The system by which the magistrate managed occasionally to possess
himself of a valuable watch or some other costly article, consisted in
having two or three drawers wherein to keep the property found with
highwaymen or thieves. If the prosecutor identified the delinquent, he
was then shown the right drawer; but if he could not swear to the
depredator, the wrong drawer was opened.
The magistrate to whom this narrative refers, was dismissed in a short
time after, for attempting to embezzle fifty pounds. I wish, for the
honor of the profession of which I am proud to be a member, to state
that he was not a barrister. Flood was afterwards for many years the
marker of a racket court at Tottenham Court Road, London. He judiciously
and wittily changed his name to _Waters_.
FOOTNOTE:
[4] The proprietor of this tent was a person named Cheevers. Having
received an intimation, a few days before the fair, that the Lord
Lieutenant would, with a select party, dine in his tent, he had it
constructed with a lofting or first-floor, and a flight of steps, by
which the Viceregal party ascended to their repast. On the succeeding
days, whilst the fair lasted, the elevated apartment which had been
honored by his Excellency was crowded to excess, and Cheevers received
an ample remuneration for his very original project.