TERRY DRISCOLL'S FICTION--BRIDGET LAFFAN--SAILORS--FISHER.
I shall now revert to magisterial reminiscences, and notice an anecdote
originally published in the _Warder_ newspaper, as a portion of a letter
signed "Terry Driscoll," which was the _nom de plume_ of a well-known
facetious and imaginative contributor named Jackson. It purports to be a
report of observations addressed by me to a female who was repeatedly
charged with being "drunk and disorderly." It states that Mr. Porter
said to the delinquent that her frequent intoxication was always
accompanied with indecent language and personal violence, so as to
render her a public nuisance and a plague to the police. He then
adjudged her, in default of solvent security for her good behaviour, to
be committed for one calendar month, which time should be sufficient to
bring her to a proper state of reflection on the past, and a disposition
to reform her habits, and to curse Whiskey. To this she is represented
to have replied, "That she had no fault to find with Whiskey, nor would
she ever curse it, but from the bottom of her heart she could wish _bad
lack to Porter_." To this anecdote several English periodicals have
afforded extensive publicity, and I have merely to say that it is
altogether a fiction.
BRIDGET LAFFAN.
There is, I believe, still living in Dublin, a woman named Bridget
Laffan. I would readily wager that since 1841 she has been the subject
of more than two thousand committals, in which drunkenness, violence,
abusive language, indecent expressions or behaviour, and occasional
mendicancy, constituted the offences. Shortly before I retired, she was
brought before me charged with intoxication, and with three distinct
assaults; one being on a constable in the execution of his duty. I told
her, the cases having been fully proved, that on each of the assaults
she should go to prison, with hard labor, for two months, which would
relieve the public and the police for the next half year from one who
had become an intolerable pest and disgrace to the community. When I
directed her to be removed, she exclaimed that "she had not been allowed
to say a word for herself." I then said that she was at liberty to
speak, if it occurred to her that there was any favorable circumstances
in her case either as a defence or mitigation. Her reply was short and
peculiarly argumentative.
"It's an unrasonable thing to sind me to Grangegorman for six months,
and to call me a pest and disgrace to the 'varsal world. If it wasn't
for me and the likes of me, that gets a bit disorderly whin we have a
drop, and kicks up ructions now and then, there ud be very little call
for polis magistrates and polismen, or such varmint. It's creatures like
me that's yer best friends, and keeps the bread in yer mouths, and all
we get for it is jailing and impudence."
SAILORS.
During the considerable time in which I discharged magisterial duties at
the Head Office and also at Kingstown, I cannot recollect that more than
five or six charges were preferred before me against sailors. When the
Ajax was stationed at the latter place one of the crew stole some
clothes and other articles from several of his shipmates. The thief was
detected on shore with some of the property in his possession, and was
summarily convicted before me, and imprisoned, with hard labor, for six
months. I notice this case on account of the discontent which, I was
credibly informed, the treatment of the delinquent produced amongst the
crew. It is generally believed that the abolition of corporal punishment
was anxiously desired by our sailors; but in reference to the instance
of thieving which was disposed of by me, it was regarded on board the
ship as almost tantamount to the forgiveness of the delinquent. The
opinion was most freely expressed that the fellow should have been sent
on board, tried by court-martial, and _flogged_. It was the only offence
of a mean and disgraceful nature that I ever knew to be charged against
a blue-jacket.
About twenty years have elapsed since "La Hogue" frigate came into
Kingstown. One of the crew, as fine-looking a young man as ever I saw,
came on shore and indulged too freely in strong potations. It required
two or three constables to effect his capture and lodgment in the
station-house. Next morning he was brought up before me, and the
circumstances of his intoxication and resistance were in course of
statement by one of his captors, who occupied the witness box, whilst
the prisoner stood directly opposite to the bench, with the ship's
corporal, who had been sent ashore to look after him, standing close
beside him. I said to the sailor, "If you wish to put any question to
the constable, you are at liberty to do so, and if you feel disposed to
say anything for yourself, I am ready and willing to hear you." He stood
silent and downcast, when the ship's corporal nudged him and said quite
aloud, "Speak up for yourself like a man, the magistrate is a good
gentleman, and is ready to hear you." The prisoner replied in a
desponding, but perfectly audible tone, "It's no use, that fellow
(pointing to the policeman) will swear anything, and the old chap will
believe him." There was loud and general laughter at the estimate formed
by the tar of the constable and of the magistrate. I discharged him,
without prejudice to informations and a warrant, and told the ship's
corporal that the warrant should not be sent on board. I consequently
restricted the sailor to remain in his vessel during her stay at
Kingstown, which was for about another week.
From the same ship a sailor came ashore attired in his best clothes, and
with seven pounds in his pocket. He was decoyed into a disreputable
place, where, by the administration of whiskey and snuff, he was
rendered insensible. A detective observed a woman leaving the house, and
carrying a bundle. He allowed her to proceed to the railway terminus, at
the entrance of which he arrested her. The bundle contained the seaman's
clothes, and the female searcher got a five pound note and two
sovereigns secreted in the culprit's _chignon_. The police did not
inform the sailor of the clothes and money having been found. They
dressed him in some old ill-fitting habiliments, and he looked most
lubberly in his attire, and also deeply dejected at the supposed loss
of his clothes and cash. His sadness was at once dissipated by the
contents of the bundle being produced, and the banknote and sovereigns
completed the restoration of his spirits. There was, however, one small
article missing, and in reference to it he made an earnest request of
me, and accompanied it with _an alluring offer_, in the following
terms:--
"Your honor, my clothes are all here and my money is safe too. I only
miss a little blue hankercher with white spots, I had it from mother
when we last parted; and it's dog's usage I'll get from her if I haven't
it at our next meeting. If you send out a smart chap or two in search of
it, I think it will be easily got, and if it is, I'm d----d but I'll
stand anything that you and your people choose to call for, all round."
A summary conviction, with six months' imprisonment, of the woman with
whom the clothes and money were detected, terminated the proceeding. The
kerchief was not sought for, and we had "all round" to content ourselves
without the proffered libations.
FISHER.
One of the most extraordinary characters of the many who came under my
frequent magisterial notice, was a man named Fisher. He was the most
inveterate and incorrigible drunkard that was to be found in Dublin,
perhaps I might truly say, in the Empire. He had been educated, as I
heard, in Stockholm, and acquired a proficiency in several European
languages. He had also considerable classical attainments. His
intemperance had ruined his commercial interests, and precluded his
employment by others, even in very subordinate capacities. Occasionally
he would be taken and kept almost as a prisoner in the concerns of an
extensive timber merchant, arranging with the Norwegian or Danish people
engaged in the delivery of cargoes. A suit of clothes and a pound or two
would be thus acquired, but in a few minutes after his liberation he
would assuredly be found in street or lane, hall or entry, dead drunk.
He was never violent, abusive, blasphemous, or indecent, and as his
senses returned, he became courteous and submissive. By the police he
was generally pitied, and when a constable was obliged to state that he
found "Mr. Fisher" drunk on a thoroughfare, he almost invariably added
that he was _very quiet_. The magistrates were not severe on the
wretched creature, and in general, the ruling in reference to him was
deferred until the close of their sitting (four o'clock), and then the
charge sheet was marked, "Dismissed with a caution." If there happened
to be a paucity of cases, we were not disinclined to allow Fisher to
address the bench, and state the grounds on which he expected or
solicited exemption from punishment. He never "worshipped" us, but
invariably named the magistrate, with the prefix of "My dear." I
recollect a short speech having been made by him before myself, which
excited my surprise and admiration from its purity of diction and the
combination of interesting ideas it evinced. The charge against him was
"Drunk on a public thoroughfare," and the constable stated that he found
Mr. Fisher lying on the steps of a hall door in Peter Street, fast
asleep, and having been aroused, he was very drunk, but perfectly quiet.
"My dear Mr. Porter," said the prisoner, "I acknowledge and regret my
lapse from propriety--
'Facilis descensus Averni.'
I have, however, been severely punished. I reclined on the steps where
your constable found me, and immediately I sank into a slumber which,
had it lasted for ever, would have afforded me a blissful immortality.
Sweet visions of the past, retrospections of youthful joys, untainted by
the errors and cares of the present, monopolised my imagination. A
mother's lips were pressed to mine. A father's smile gladdened my heart.
I had clasped a sister's hand, and a brother's arm encircled my neck.
The home of my childhood arose before me, and the garden, with which my
earliest recollections were associated, appeared in luxuriant, vernal
beauty. The strong hand of your officer, firmly but not rudely applied,
dispelled the delightful scene in which I was entranced, and recalled me
to the sad reality of captivity and degradation. Have I not already
suffered enough to justify the clemency which I implore?" The wretched
man was cautioned and discharged.
Having been brought before me on four successive mornings, I told him
that I would not permit his coming so frequently, and that I adjudged
him to pay a shilling, or to be confined for twenty-four hours.
Thereupon he replied, "I regret, my dear Mr. Porter, that on this
occasion you do not manifest your usual equanimity. I acknowledge my
fault, but I am not worse to-day than I was yesterday or any of the
previous days. Moreover, I must respectfully submit that you are greatly
mistaken in your remarks as to my _coming_ so often. I never _came_
before you or any magistrate. I was always _brought_. If the police will
leave me as they find me, I shall never complain of their want of
attention, nor shall I ever intrude on your presence. Strike off that
paltry shilling, and let me depart once more." I told the constable to
remove the prisoner, upon which he exclaimed, "If you are obdurate, and
insist on marking a penalty, put five shillings on the sheet. It will
look more respectable, and there is just the same chance of its
payment."
Fisher continued a hopeless, persistent drunkard. With natural talents
of no mean order, and with educational acquirements from which great and
varied advantages might be expected, he lived despised and ridiculed,
and afforded to those under whose occasional observation he came, a
melancholy but certain proof that when a man's habits render him his own
enemy, he becomes incapable of deriving any benefit from the friendship
of others. On a winter's night in, I believe, 1856, Fisher betook
himself to a limekiln in Luke Street. He lay down too near the edge and
fell asleep, never to awake again in this world. Suffocated by the fumes
of the kiln, his corpse, after an inquest and verdict of "accidental
death," was consigned to a pauper's coffin, and was ultimately made a
subject for anatomical demonstration. His fate was truly melancholy, but
some salutary reflections may be derived from contemplating the final
consequences of habitual and unrestrained intemperance.