COMMITTALS--A BARBER WANTED--DWYER THE REBEL--AN EXTRAORDINARY
INQUEST--SERGEANT GREENE'S HORSE--CHRISTY HUGHES--THE POLICE
CLERKS--RECORDER WALKER--THE POLICE STATUTES--PREAMBLE--A BENEFIT
SOCIETY CASE--POLICE RECRUITS--A BORN SOLDIER.
It is pleasing to observe decided improvements in institutions of
importance to the community. In the time of Major Sirr, the coarsest
language was addressed from the bench of the police courts, not only to
prisoners on serious charges, but to persons prosecuting or defending
summonses. If a magistrate of police were now to apply terms of abuse,
even to the most disreputable characters, he would most certainly be
severely censured, or perhaps dismissed. The personal characters of the
present magistrates of Dublin ensure the observance of the strictest
propriety in their courts. I may remark, also, that imprisonment cannot
now be inflicted in the reckless manner formerly adopted. On the day
when my magisterial functions commenced, I called for a list of the
existing committals to the Dublin prisons from the Head Office. I was
astonished to find that one man had been detained for the previous
fifteen years, another for thirteen, and a third for ten, in default of
sureties to keep the peace, and be of good behaviour. I ordered the
immediate discharge of those persons, and two of them expressed great
dissatisfaction at being thrown upon the world from which they had been
so long estranged. These committals were signed by Major Sirr. There is
no danger of persons being now sent to prison, and forgotten there; for
if such a committal were sent, through ignorance or inadvertence, the
Board of Superintendence would soon draw attention to the fact of a
prisoner's subsistence being charged on the public for an illegal or
unreasonable period. At the time when the committals to which I have
alluded came under my notice, I happened to meet with some reports from
a Governor of the Richmond Bridewell addressed to the magistrates of the
Head Police Office during the time when that prison was under their
exclusive control and supervision. In one of these documents, the writer
states the building to be in good repair, and perfectly adapted for the
safe custody of its inmates, and that every ward was in a clean and
wholesome condition. He proceeds to describe the good effects produced
by the use he made of a barber, who, for riotous and disorderly conduct,
had been committed for two months with hard labour. He had not put the
delinquent to stone-breaking or oakum picking, but employed him in
shaving and hair-cutting the other prisoners, the effect of which was to
improve their appearance, and to impart cleanly tendencies. He then
expresses his regret that the barber's term of imprisonment had elapsed,
and that the prisoners had become less cleanly-looking from remaining
unshaven and uncropt. He terminates the report by earnestly and most
respectfully suggesting to "their worships" to avail themselves of the
first opportunity that may offer for committing _another barber for the
longest term in their power_.
For some time after my appointment to the magistracy, Alderman John
Smith Fleming was my senior colleague at the Head Office. He had a very
vivid recollection of the rebellion of 1798, and was secretary to his
uncle, Alderman Thomas Fleming, Lord Mayor of Dublin in that year.
Amongst other anecdotes of that period, I have heard him relate that
Dwyer, one of the insurgent chiefs, had prolonged his resistance for
some months after the insurrection had been generally quelled. In the
mountains of Wicklow, with a few but faithful followers, he evaded every
exertion for his capture. Mr. Hume, of Humewood, near Baltinglass, was
particularly anxious to secure Dwyer. He was the commander of a corps of
yeomanry, and a magistrate of the County of Wicklow, which he also
represented in Parliament. Of very extensive influence, he easily
procured the co-operation of the civil and military authorities of his
own and of the adjoining districts. Still Dwyer was not to be had. At
length an arrangement was made that the yeomanry corps of the western
portion of Wicklow should assemble, at an early hour on an appointed
day, at Humewood, and should set out to scour the country, exploring
every recess, and leaving no place, on hill or plain, unransacked for
Dwyer. Yeomanry from Wexford, Carlow, and Kildare were to move on
preconcerted points, so as to intercept the fugitive if he should
attempt to shift his quarters. A day was wholly spent in a most
fatiguing search. It seemed as if Dwyer had transformed himself into a
bird, and flown beyond sight or reach. However, in a short time, Mr.
Hume received an intimation, that if Dwyer's life would be spared, and
that he would be permitted to leave the country, he was willing to
surrender. With the assent of the Government, Mr. Hume acceded to this
offer. Dwyer was brought to Dublin, and the required undertaking and
consequent immunity from punishment were acknowledged before the Lord
Mayor. The outlaw was kindly and generously treated by Mr. Hume during
the few days which preceded his departure for America; and at a final
interview Mr. Hume said--"Before we part, Dwyer, will you tell me how
you avoided capture on the day that we scoured the whole country in
search of you?" "Sir," replied Dwyer, "I had information of your
intentions, so I went to Humewood on the night before, and when the
yeomen were paraded on your lawn, before they started in search of me,
_I was looking at them from your hay-loft_."
For some years previous to 1842, the number of persons "found drowned"
in the County of Dublin was much greater than might be expected either
from the extent of the population or the nature of the locality. It was
indeed true that one canal, the Grand, extended along the greater part
of the southern boundary of the Irish metropolis, and another, the
Royal, was similarly situated in the northern direction; but although
these canals afforded great facilities for the termination of human
existence, whether by suicide or accident, the cases of drowning were
far more numerous than could be fairly attributed to violence,
intoxication, lunacy, or carelessness. It would also seem that the
southern canal was much more destructive to human life than the other,
and that the bank which was in the county possessed some attraction for
the corpses, for they were almost always taken out at the county side.
It happened on the 11th of March, 1842, a few minutes before 10 o'clock,
a.m., that a young man named Kinsella, who was employed in a distillery
at Marrowbone Lane, was proceeding, after his breakfast, from his
residence at Dolphin's Barn to resume his work, when, on approaching the
canal bridge, he was stopped by a constable, who informed him that the
coroner required his attendance, as a juror, on an inquest that was
about to be held on the body of an old man, just taken out of the canal.
Kinsella vainly expostulated against the detention. He was told that it
would be a very short business, for there were no marks of violence on
the corpse; it would merely be a case of "found drowned." The man was
accordingly sworn on the inquest, and the coroner having informed the
jury that they were required by law to view the body, they were
conducted to the apartment where it lay. As soon as Kinsella beheld the
corpse, he rushed forward, dropped on his knees beside it, seized the
stiff and frigid hand, and exclaimed, "My father! my poor, dear father!
We buried him on this day week, decently and well, in the Hospital
Fields. He had no business in the canal; and _them old clothes_ never
belonged to him; he never wore a stitch of them." The coroner and the
doctor vainly endeavoured to persuade Kinsella that he was mistaken; and
his recognition of his parent produced an enquiry, which resulted in
bringing to light some very extraordinary practices on the part of the
county functionary and his medical satellite. They were paid by public
presentment, according to the number of inquests held; and they had
recourse to the expedient of having bodies disinterred, clothed in old
habiliments, and thrown into the canal. Such bodies were almost always
discovered very soon, and were taken out on the county side of the
canal, to swell the coroner's next presentment for inquests on persons
who were "found drowned." A crush from a passing barge afforded an
additional profit, as the bruises constituted a plausible reason for a
_post mortem_ examination, and thereby doubled the doctor's ordinary
fee. The coroner and his associate were convicted of conspiring to
defraud, and consequently were deprived of their functions. It must be
acknowledged that, if their mode of procuring inquests was not honest,
it was certainly novel and ingenious. If the practice had been known in
the days of Hamlet, it would have furnished an additional reason for his
exclamation:--
"To what base uses we may return, Horatio."
In the year 1842, and for several subsequent years, by an arrangement
with my colleagues, I undertook the magisterial duties connected with
the licensing and regulation of job and hackney vehicles, and the
adjudication of complaints in the carriage court. At the time when I
assumed those duties, Richard Wilson Greene (whose high legal
acquirements ultimately obtained for him the position of Baron in the
Court of Exchequer) was in very extensive practice at the Bar. An issue
from Chancery was sent to be tried at one of the principal towns on the
Leinster Circuit, and he was specially retained for one of the parties.
A very efficient reporter, named Christopher Hughes, in whose character
there was great comical eccentricity, was employed to take down, in
shorthand, the trial of the issue. Early in the succeeding term, it was
arranged that a consultation should be held at the house of the senior
counsel, in Leeson Street, and Mr. Hughes was requested to meet Mr.
Greene at the Courts, with his notes, and to accompany him to the
consultation. The appointed time had nearly arrived, when Greene and
Hughes hurried off from the Four Courts. Having passed out to the quay,
the former hailed an outside car, on which they sat beside each other,
and the driver was ordered to make all possible haste to Leeson Street.
The horse was a fine-looking animal, but he stepped high and was very
slow. Mr. Greene urged the driver to hasten on, and after two or three
expostulations, he remarked to the Jehu that the horse was unfit for a
jaunting car, although he was large and strong, but that he would suit
well for a family carriage. The driver, a lad of eighteen or nineteen
years of age, exclaimed, "Bedad your honor is a witch!" "What do you
mean?" asked Mr. Greene. "Oh," replied the carman, "I mane no offince,
but yer honor is right about the baste; that's what he is. I'll tell yer
honor a saycret. The baste is a carriage horse belonging to one
Counsellor Greene, and the coachman has a hack-car and figure on Bride
Street stand. He ginerally manages to have something the matther with
one of the horses, and that gives him an opportunity to get a good deal
of work out of the other in the car." Although Mr. Greene was very angry
at what the driver had communicated, he did not disclose that he was the
owner of the horse. He whispered to Hughes, and requested him to give
the driver his name and address, but to leave him unpaid. When they
arrived at Leeson Street, Greene at once entered the house of the senior
counsel, and warned the servant against telling his name to the carman.
Hughes had a scene, and was treated to a copious supply of opprobrious
epithets, but he did not pay, and merely gave his name and address. He
was summoned, at the owner's suit, before me; and when the case was
called the proprietor of the vehicle, in very energetic terms, demanded
exemplary costs against the defaulting hirer of his car. His
denunciations were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Mr. Greene;
and there was abundant merriment, of which I had a full share, when it
transpired that the learned Queen's Counsel had hired a hack-car drawn
by his own horse. The coachman ran out of court, and I afterwards heard
that he never applied for wages or discharge. The incident attained
great publicity, and afforded much amusement in "The Hall" amongst the
long-robed fraternity. One day Greene said to some of his brethren that
he believed the fellow had left Dublin, but that he was strongly tempted
to send the police in quest of him. "Send your horse," observed the
facetious Robert Holmes, "for he is best acquainted with _the carman's
traces_."
Mr. Hughes, whose name appears in the preceding anecdote, deserves to be
noticed upon his own merits. He was frequently engaged in reporting
proceedings in the Police Courts, and we never had occasion to impute
any inaccuracy to his statements. He was always ready to assist any of
his brethren of the "press-gang," and to suggest a palliation or excuse
for their casual errors. I frequently indulged him with permission to
sit in the magistrate's room whilst he was transcribing his notes, and I
have been often amused with his remarks and statements, which were
strictly true, and in which he never concealed his own professional
expedients or mistakes. He mentioned that he was directed to go to one
of the dinners of the Malachean Orphan Society, where O'Connell
presided, but having indulged in his potations at a luncheon, he forgot
the requirement for his services at Mrs. Mahony's great rooms in Patrick
Street. "I slept," said he, "until about 11 o'clock, and then I
recollected myself, so I went quietly to the office and got the file of
the previous year, and, with a little alteration, it did for the day's
dinner as well." He often mentioned what he designated his greatest
mistake. He described it thus:--"On the concluding day of George the
Fourth's visit, in 1821, he went to Powerscourt, where he got a splendid
reception from the noble proprietor. Lord Powerscourt had caused
reservoirs to be constructed above the waterfall, in order that when his
Majesty went to see it, the sluices might be drawn, and a tremendous
cataract produced. I went down in the morning and viewed the place, and
minutely noted all the preparations. I then drew on my imagination for a
description of a second Niagara, and put into the mouth of the royal
visitor various exclamations of delight and surprise. I sent off my
report, and it appeared in due time, but unfortunately the king was too
much hurried by other arrangements, and did not go to the Waterfall at
all, but drove direct from Powerscourt House to Kingstown, where he
embarked. I have been often quizzed for my imaginative report, but,
nevertheless, I stated what the King _ought_ to have done, and what he
_ought_ to have said, and if he did otherwise, it was not my fault."
I was extremely fortunate, at my accession to magisterial office, to
find myself provided with clerks who could not be surpassed in
diligence, integrity, or intelligence. I shall particularize Messrs.
Pemberton and Cox. The former was the son of a previous chief
magistrate, at whose instance he was appointed. The latter had been for
several years in America, and had been engaged by Jacob Philip Astor in
forming the settlement of Astoria, in Washington Irvine's description of
which he is most favorably mentioned. He was a man of great literary
taste, and was an accomplished linguist. Their performance of official
duties never required from me, nor to my knowledge from any of my
colleagues, the slightest correction or reproof. Pemberton was a
solicitor, and was promoted in 1846 to the Clerkship of the Crown for
the King's County. He had been many years before an assistant to Messrs.
Allen and Greene, the Clerks of the Peace for the City of Dublin. I
shall have to notice hereafter some amusing incidents connected with
Cox, but shall give precedence to a few anecdotes derived from
Pemberton, and arising from his acquaintance with the old Session House
in Green Street, and the records there, to which, I suppose, he had full
access.
Towards the close of the last century an aid-de-camp of the then viceroy
was indicted, at the Quarter Sessions, for the larceny of a handsome
walking-stick, and also for assaulting the gentleman who owned it, and
who was, moreover, a Frenchman. The transaction arose in a house of a
description unnecessary to be particularized. An affray took place, the
Frenchman was kicked down stairs, and lost his cane, which was alleged
to have been wrested from him by the aid-de-camp. The charge of larceny
was absurd, and the grand jury ignored the indictment. But the assault
could neither be denied nor justified, and the traverser submitted,
pleaded "guilty," and was fined five pounds. That punishment did not
cure his propensity for beating Frenchmen and taking their _sticks_. On
the 21st of June, 1813, he beat Marshal Jourdan at Vittoria, and
captured his _baton_; and on the 18th of June, 1815, at Waterloo, he
beat the greatest Frenchman that ever lived, Napoleon Bonaparte. I do
not feel justified in naming the delinquent aid-de-camp, and perhaps the
reader may think it quite unnecessary that I should.
More than half a century has elapsed since the office of Recorder of
Dublin was held by Mr. William Walker, whose town residence was in Lower
Dominick Street. One day a groom, in the service of a Mr. Gresson, was
tried before him, for stealing his master's oats. The evidence was most
conclusive, for the culprit had been detected in the act of taking a
large bag of oats out of his master's stable, which was in the lane at
the back of the east side of Dominick Street. When the prisoner was
convicted, the Recorder addressed him to the following effect:--"The
sentence of the Court is, that you are to be imprisoned for three
calendar months; and at the commencement of that term you are to be
publicly whipped from one end of _that lane_ to the other, and back
again; and in the last week of your imprisonment, you are to be again
publicly whipped from one end of _that lane_ to the other, and back
again; for I am determined, with the help of Providence, to put a stop
to oat-stealing in _that lane_." His worship's emphatic denunciation of
oat-stealing in _that lane_, arose from the circumstance of his own
stable being the next door to Mr. Gresson's.
The same civic functionary was a great amateur farmer. He had a villa
and some acres of land at Mount Tallant, near Harold's Cross, and prided
himself upon his abundant crops of early hay. On one occasion he entered
the court to discharge his judicial duties at an adjourned sessions, and
was horrified at hearing from the acting Clerk of the Peace (Mr.
Pemberton) that there were upwards of twenty larceny cases to be tried.
"Oh!" said he, "this is shocking. I have three acres of meadow cut, and
I have no doubt that the haymaking will be neglected or mismanaged in my
absence." In a few minutes, he inquired in an undertone, "Is there any
old offender on the calendar?"
"Yes," was the reply, "there is one named Branagan, who has been twice
convicted for ripping lead from roofs, and he is here now for a similar
offence, committed last week in Mary's Abbey."
"Send a turnkey to him," said the Recorder, "with a hint that, if he
pleads guilty, he will be likely to receive a light sentence."
These directions were complied with, and the lead-stealer was put to the
bar and arraigned.
"Are you guilty or not guilty?"
"Guilty, my lord."
"The sentence of the court is that you be imprisoned for three months.
Remove him."
Branagan retired, delighted to find a short imprisonment substituted for
the transportation that he expected. As he passed through the dock, he
was eagerly interrogated by the other prisoners--
"What have you got?"
"Three months."
"Three months--only three months!" they exclaimed; "Oh! but we're in
luck. His lordship is as mild as milk this morning. It's seldom that
he's in so sweet a humour."
"Put forward another," said the Recorder.
"Are you guilty or not guilty?"
"Guilty, my lord."
"Let the prisoner stand back, and arraign the next."
Accordingly, the prisoners were rapidly arraigned, and the same plea of
"Guilty" recorded in each case. Presently it was signified to his
lordship that the calendar was exhausted. All the thieves had pleaded
guilty.
"Put the prisoners to the front of the dock," said he; and they were
mustered as he directed. He then briefly addressed them--
"The sentence of the court is that you and each of you be transported
for seven years. Crier, adjourn the court."
Branagan had been thrown as a sprat, and had caught the other fish
abundantly. This incident might afford a useful, or perhaps it should be
termed, a convenient suggestion, to other judicial functionaries,
especially on circuit when there is a crowded dock.
When Mr. Pemberton received the appointment of Clerk of the Crown for
the King's County, Mr. Cox, who had been for several years the second
clerk in the Head Police Office, succeeded to the chief clerkship. He
possessed very extensive knowledge of the world, and was highly
educated. Many incidents connected with him are worthy of being
recorded. I may mention here that the Police Laws of the Irish
Metropolitan district are, to the highest degree, complex, voluminous,
involved, and perplexing. In the English Metropolitan district two
statutes regulate, one the Police Force, and the other the Police
Courts. In Dublin we have a statute passed in 1808, another in 1824, a
third in 1836, a fourth in 1837, a fifth in 1838, a sixth in 1839, a
seventh in 1842, and an Act in relation to public carriages, which may
also be termed a police statute, in 1848. They contain three hundred and
sixty-six sections, and may be designated as disgraceful to the several
executive governments which have left them unconsolidated and
uncodified. When the 5th Vic. sess. 2, Chap. 24, passed, it recited the
other Acts to which I have alluded, and then its preamble proceeds to
heap or bundle them all together in the following terms:--
"Be it therefore enacted by the Queen's most Excellent Majesty, by
and with the advice and consent of the Lords Spiritual and
Temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by
the authority of the same, that the said recited Acts of the
forty-eighth year of the reign of King George the Third, of the
fifth year of the reign of King George the Fourth, of the session
of Parliament holden in the sixth and seventh years of the reign of
King William the Fourth, of the first year of Her present Majesty's
reign, and of the sessions of Parliament holden respectively in the
first and second, second and third, and third and fourth years of
Her present Majesty's reign, and this Act, shall be construed
together as one Act; and that all and every the enactments and
provisions therein contained shall apply and extend to this Act,
and to all Convictions, Warrants, Distresses, Proceedings, and
Things, made, taken, or done in execution of this Act, as fully to
all intents and purposes as if the same were herein repeated and
re-enacted, save in so far as such enactments and provisions are
inconsistent with or contrary to this Act, or as such enactments or
provisions may be altered by this Act, or other enactments or
provisions made in lieu thereof."
Mr. Cox commented on this farrago by observing that "its framer would
have an easy death, for that if he was affected with ague, or even if he
were hanged, he would be too lazy to shake in the former or to kick in
the latter case." In the blank leaf of a bound copy of the Police
statutes, the following was written in reference to the preceding
quotation:--
"The preamble saith the forty-eighth of George the Third is one,
that must be tack'd to another Act, the fifth of George his son.
Then whilst you're at it, just take a statute, the sixth and
seventh session, of him who did own the British throne, the next in
due progression. Then the first of the reign of our present Queen,
and then the first and second; the next that occurred was the
second and third, then the third and fourth is reckoned. All these
in fact, to the present Act, you must fasten tight as leather.
There may be flaws in many a clause, but, take them all together,
it must be your plan, as well as you can, to deal with your
numerous doubts, or be the employer of some shrewd lawyer, to shew
you their ins and outs. If your puzzled brain, you rack in vain,
until you fume and curse; if they bother you, why they've bothered
me too, so take them for better, for worse."
There were, and I suppose still are, many complaints preferred before
divisional magistrates, at the Police Courts, in reference to claims on
Benefit or Friendly Societies, for allowances in cases of sickness, or
for money payable to members or their representatives, under family
visitations. Whenever any summonses on such subjects were disposed of by
me, I called for the transaction and account-books, and required them to
be produced at the commencement of the proceedings. On one occasion a
quire of copy paper, stitched in a cover of brown, in a condition
absolutely dirty, and in which the entries were irregularly scrawled,
was handed up to me. I strongly censured such a slovenly mode of
recording their proceedings as very discreditable. On hearing the
complainant, I considered that the case was very well suited for an
arbitration, and the parties offered no objection to have it so disposed
of; but they disagreed on each of the other societies which were
suggested for the purpose of deciding it. However, one of the persons
concerned said, that he would be satisfied to leave the matter entirely
to Paddy Flannery, whom he saw present, and whom he considered "the most
knowledgeable man in all Dublin on such a business." The others
concurred, and I directed Mr. Cox to indorse on the copy of the summons
a reference by me, with the consent of the parties, of all matters in
dispute between them to the aforesaid Flannery. I proceeded with some
other business; and the indorsement having been made, I signed it
without any hesitation, and it was given to the late Mr. Charles
Fitzgerald, who was concerned in the case, but in whose honor and
probity all parties who knew him fully confided. In a day or two after,
I was talking to him, during a few minutes of leisure, and he showed me
the indorsement which I had signed. It was as follows:--
"This Benefit Society, which keeps no proper book, evinces
impropriety deserving a rebuke. As further litigation on each part
they decline, no other observation is requisite on mine. 'Tis left
to Patrick Flannery to judge of every fact, and in whatever manner
he thinks right they're bound to act. My order I reserve until he
makes out his award, and when he does, at once I will the rule of
Court record."
Dr. Ireland was, for many years, the principal surgeon of the Dublin
Metropolitan Police. He had to inspect the recruits, and satisfy himself
of their size, health, mental capacity, and bodily strength being
suitable to the service in which they proposed to engage. Cox said that
the Dublin Police was in one respect, very like to Howth Harbor, as no
one could get into either without passing "Ireland's Eye." When the
railway was being made from Dublin to Wicklow, he said that its course
through the County of Dublin was extremely inharmonious, for it went
first to a Dun-_drum_, proceeded to a Still-_organ_, and then attained
to a _Bray_.
Mr. Cox came into the Police Court one morning after the custody cases
had been disposed of. He brought forward an elderly female whom he
stated to be desirous of making a statutable declaration before me, and
which she had brought already drawn. There was a peculiar expression in
his countenance as he suggested that I might, perhaps, be pleased to
peruse the document previous to its official reception. It was made
under circumstances which I shall briefly mention. A young man named
Dempsey thought fit to embrace a military life, and enlisted in the 97th
Regiment. He did not give his paternal name, but adopted the maiden name
of his mother, and was enrolled as Peter Moran. He served for some years
in India, but died there from the effects of sun-stroke. Some arrears of
pay and a share of prize-money were due at the time of his decease; and
his widowed mother applied, as next of kin, to obtain the amount. The
War-Office authorities did not understand how Peter Moran came to be the
son of Anne Dempsey. The declaration to which Cox slyly drew my
attention was intended to afford an explanation of the grounds on which
the claim was preferred, and it, moreover, afforded an instance of a
martial disposition being as early in its inception as the
birth-acquired tendency of poetic inspiration. The declaration was as
follows:--
"Police District of Dublin}
Metropolis, to wit,}
I Bridget Carey, of Fade Street, in the City of Dublin, widow, do
hereby solemnly declare that I am a midwife, and have been such for
the last thirty-five years; and I further declare that about
twenty-seven years ago, I attended Anne Dempsey who was then living
in Little Longford Street, in her confinement, and, with God's
assistance, I then and there _safely delivered her of the soldier
in dispute_, and I make this declaration for the information of the
Secretary-at-war, and the other authorities of the War Office, &c."
Cox remarked, with an assumption of gravity which was irresistibly
comic, "I suppose, your worship, that it is not necessary to describe
the uniform or accoutrements in which 'the soldier' made his natal
appearance." The document was retained by me, and another was
substituted, in which the deceased was not accorded the distinction of
having been "born a soldier."