JOHN SARGEANT--THE MAGISTERIAL OFFICES--TWO MURDERS--ONE
REPRIEVED--DELAHUNT'S CRIMES.
I shall now present a magisterial reminiscence which derives its
greatest interest from antecedent occurrences, the first of which brings
me back to 1821, the year in which George the Fourth visited Ireland. If
I become a little diffuse in my recollections of the period, it is
because they are strongly impressed on my memory, and extraordinary in
their nature. Nothing could exceed the universal homage tendered to the
king. If it has been termed "servile adulation" by some, I am not
prepared to insist on a complete exoneration of our national character
from such an imputation. I was then an undergraduate of the University
of Dublin. On the day of the Royal entry, we, the students, possessed
ourselves of the railings in front of the College, as affording an
excellent view of the procession. The rails were freshly painted, and
produced a most piebald appearance on our hands and clothes (blue coats
with "welcome" buttons, white waistcoats and trousers.) We rubbed some
of the paint off our hands on the faces and clothes of each other
previous to proceeding to the Castle with the University Address. On
entering the upper yard from Cork Hill, we marched to the right by the
footway, and had an opportunity, of which we availed ourselves, of
pulling the white caps off some of the cooks and scullions who were
viewing us from the two lower windows in the farthest corner of the
yard. We jostled each other up the staircase, and during the reading of
the Address, amused ourselves by climbing on each other's shoulders by
turns in order to have a better view. Some of us, amongst whom I was
one, suggested rather loudly, that cakes and wine would be acceptable.
This produced a counter suggestion from some officials of our immediate
retirement from the State apartments. On reaching the hall, I observed
the porters and other attendants sternly expelling a tall female who was
dressed in deep black. She appeared in great affliction, but was
accorded no sympathy. No one thought that anyone else had a right to be
sad when the King was in Ireland. I subsequently saw the "woman in
black," at the review in the Phoenix Park, vainly endeavouring to
approach the Royal presence. I was a spectator of the various public
demonstrations during the Royal sojourn, and enjoyed the exciting
pageantry as anyone of my age and temperament might be supposed to do. I
pass, however, to the day of the King's departure, the 3rd of September.
On the morning of that day, the place of his embarkation was Dunleary,
but on his arrival he changed its designation into "The Royal Harbour of
Kingstown." He entered his barge very near the place where the
commemorative column stands, and close to the inner end of the eastern
pier. The "woman in black" somehow managed to get very near. She
endeavoured in vain to address him, and just as the Royal barge was
shoving off, she rushed forward, holding a paper in her hand, and, in
her frantic haste, was precipitated into the water, from which, however,
she was speedily rescued. The king saw enough of her exertions and
mishap to excite his curiosity, and ordered her communication to be
received and laid before him. It was a petition imploring the Royal
mercy for her husband, who was then under sentence of death in a
southern county, for burning his house with intent to defraud an
insurance company. Her prayer was favourably considered. An act of
clemency appeared peculiarly suitable to the termination of the Royal
visit, and the sentence on John Sargeant was commuted to transportation.
At the time to which I refer there was a considerable portion of
Kilmainham prison appropriated to the reception of convicts under
sentence of transportation; and in a short time after the successful
exertions of the "woman in black" at Kingstown, John Sargeant was
transmitted to Kilmainham, there to remain until a sufficient number of
convicts were congregated to form a living freight for a transport ship,
and to transfer the future advantages of their patriotic exertions to a
southern hemisphere. I use the term "patriotic" in the same sense as the
accomplished pickpocket, Borrington, applied it in a prologue spoken by
him previous to the performance of a play at Sydney by a company
consisting exclusively of transported thieves--
"True patriots we! for be it understood,
We left our country for our country's good."
At the time of Sargeant's arrival at Kilmainham, I had a very near
relative who was a member of the committee or board which superintended
the gaol, and I frequently accompanied him to the prison. Sargeant was a
person of considerable educational acquirements. He managed to
ingratiate himself with some of the authorities of the convict depôt,
especially with a Dr. Trevor. He was frequently employed in copying
documents, which business he discharged most satisfactorily; and I have
often seen him thus engaged. When the other convicts were sent off, some
pretext or excuse was made available for retaining him, and after the
expiration of two years, he succeeded in obtaining a pardon, and was
released from confinement. The "woman in black" did not witness his
liberation; she had previously succumbed to that fate which crime
inflicts most severely on those whose love clings to unworthy and guilty
objects, even in suffering and disgrace; love which, like the ivy, will
embrace a ruin with greater tenacity than it would if the structure
stood in its pristine strength or in renovated beauty.
About three years more had elapsed, and I was residing in London,
attending the number of terms requisite for a call to the Irish Bar. At
Gray's Inn I was an adept in all the duties then requisite for an
admission to the status of a learned barrister-at-law, and indeed I
brought to their inception no slight qualifications. I could decant old
crusted Port without a funnel, my carving was considered faultless, and
the salads of my dressing would gratify the palate of Apicius Coelius.
In that society there was far greater intercourse between the Bar and
the students than I ever observed at our King's Inns. I frequently
derived great pleasure and, I believe, no slight advantage, from the
conversation of those whose deep research and matured experience
qualified them to utter words of wisdom and suggestions of prudence to
their juniors. I was fond of attending the courts, and criminal trials
possessed for me a peculiar attraction. One day I sat close to two
barristers whom I had occasionally met previously. They spoke with great
interest of a trial which was expected to be held at the Old Bailey on
the following morning, and suggested to me to be present at it, and I
followed their advice. The prisoner was alleged to have been concerned
in various frauds, but the specific offence for which he was tried was
for obtaining upwards of £800 under false pretences and representations,
and by means of forged documents. It appeared that a West Indian Creole,
Mr. D----, had arrived in London some months previous, possessed of an
immense fortune. He indulged in habits of extravagance most frivolous
and ostentatious. He fell into the error of considering fast society
good society, and formed acquaintances and established confidences which
a very moderate share of discretion would have made him avoid. Mr. D----
had seen a lady, a member of a noble family, whose ancient lineage
connected them with the most remote periods of English history, and in
which gentle blood was thoroughly united with personal worth. Mr. D----
became deeply enamoured, and made no secret of his admiration, but he
could not procure an introduction. His tropical temperament spurned all
patience and prudence, and an Irish gentleman, Mr. John Sibthorpe, took
him under his guidance and protection, and promised to realize all his
visions of matrimonial bliss. Sibthorpe advised that the lady's maid
should be approached, and enlisted, with an ample bounty, in the
Creole's service, and that she might be induced, in a short time, to
convey letters to the adored one, who could not long continue
indifferent to the suit of an amiable, wealthy, and disinterested lover.
The bait was swallowed. One hundred sovereigns were confided to
Sibthorpe to be transmitted to Kitty, and a note in reply, purporting to
be written by her, acknowledged the Creole's generosity and promised her
best exertions. More money was sent and more notes were received. The
lady was described as expressing a lively and grateful interest in the
man who had manifested such an attachment. This encouraging
communication produced a most respectful but ardent letter from the
lover to the lady, and a further douceur to the maid. In due time Mr.
D---- received a note couched in terms most favourable to his suit, and
professing to be written by the fair hand which he panted to possess.
Enraptured beyond expression, he imagined himself at the summit of his
wishes, when he casually and suddenly learned the afflicting
intelligence that the lady's nuptials with a noble suitor were fixed for
an early day. Unable to restrain his feelings, he rushed into her
paternal hall as she was about to enter her carriage, and kneeling
before her, besought her pity for a broken-hearted man to whom she had
kindly written. Mr. D---- was interrupted in his expostulations by being
kicked out of doors by the footmen, and he soon discovered that
Sibthorpe had forged the correspondence on the part of both maid and
mistress. The delinquent was apprehended, prosecuted, and convicted. I
heard him sentenced to two years' imprisonment with hard labor, and as
he stood at the bar I had no difficulty in recognising the object of
anxious solicitude to "the woman in black," the pardoned incendiary, the
profligate John Sargeant.
In two or three months after the trial of this swindler, I returned to
Ireland, and engaged in professional pursuits, to which I devoted my
attention for about twelve years. I then became a magistrate of police.
In 1844, I was doing duty in College Street Police Court for the late
Alderman Tyndall, who was suffering from severe indisposition. An
application was made to me by a director and secretary of one of the
principal banks in the city, I think it was "The Royal." They were
accompanied by their solicitor, and it appeared that a bill of exchange
for £100, purporting to be the acceptance of a gentleman of high
position in the county of Wicklow, had been tendered for discount on the
previous day, and that they had ascertained it to be a forgery. A close
description was given of the accused, who had been told to call at the
bank at two o'clock. An information was sworn and a warrant issued, and
the delinquent was apprehended in the vestibule of the bank, whither he
had the audacity or folly to proceed on his nefarious design. On being
placed before me, he stated his name to be John Sharkey, and that he had
recently returned from Oporto, where for several years he had been
employed as a clerk in an English house engaged in the wine trade. I
remanded the case for the production of the alleged acceptor, and during
the intervening time very conclusive evidence was obtained as to the
body of the bill having been written by the prisoner. At his final
committal, I told him that, although I never before had any magisterial
cognisance of him, I had no difficulty in recognising the person whom I
had seen convicted at the Old Bailey, and who had previously been an
inmate of Kilmainham, after having the sentence of capital punishment
commuted to transportation. The latter punishment was subsequently
awarded to him in Green Street, and thus, as far as I am aware, was
closed the career of Mr. John Sargeant.
THE MAGISTERIAL OFFICES.
My magisterial office was held for twenty years and four months. During
that time I was a Justice of the Peace for the city and county of
Dublin, and for the counties of Meath, Kildare, and Wicklow. The
division appurtenant to the Head Office comprised, at the time of my
appointment, (in January, 1841,) about one-half of the southern moiety
of Dublin, in which were contained the poor and very populous districts
known as "The Liberties." In about six years after, we were required to
supply a magistrate daily to the Police Court at Kingstown, for the
discharge of the business incident to the townships of Kingstown,
Blackrock, and Dalkey; and in about three years later, the entire of the
Metropolitan Police district south of the Liffey was assigned and
consolidated into one division, in which my two colleagues and myself
had to discharge the magisterial duties. Persons apprehended in the
police district for offences committed in other parts of Ireland were
brought before us to be remanded or transmitted, according to
circumstance. I mention these particulars to enable my readers more
fully to appreciate the extraordinary fact, that during the period which
I have specified there never was brought before us an individual charged
with a capital offence. I do not mean to induce an impression on the
reader's mind that our locality was free from crimes of magnitude. Two
murders occurred in our division during the time referred to, but in
each case the culprit was committed by the coroner.
One of them was in the city, and the other in the county portion of our
district. The former case was the deprivation of a wife's life by the
hand of her husband. He was a house-painter, a journeyman bearing an
excellent character for knowledge of his business, industry, honesty,
and strict sobriety. She was the daughter of a tradesman in Rathfarnham,
and her person was exceedingly comely. Very soon after marriage, she
lapsed into habits of the grossest intemperance, so as to acquire the
_soubriquet_ amongst her neighbours of "the drunken beauty." She was a
frequent, though involuntary, visitor to the police court for having
been found "drunk and incapable" in the public streets. One evening her
husband found her completely intoxicated, and he discovered that his
best clothes had been pawned to furnish the means for her inordinate
indulgence. She replied to his complaints and reproaches in abusive and
opprobrious terms, until exasperated beyond the control of reason, the
unfortunate man seized an old sword-stick which happened to be at hand,
and with that weapon he pierced her eleven times through the body, three
of the stabs perforating the heart. Curiosity led me to visit the scene
of the sanguinary termination of a union which commenced in ardent love,
and might have lasted long and happily, if every hope of domestic peace
and enjoyment had not been subverted by intemperance. I was present at
the inquest, which resulted in a verdict of "wilful murder" against the
husband. He was subsequently convicted at the Commission Court, and
received sentence of death. I exerted myself in procuring memorials to
the Executive for a commutation of the capital punishment, and in an
interview with the Chief Secretary and the law officers I argued that
the multiplicity of the wounds inflicted on the wretched woman denoted a
sudden burst of uncontrollable passion, and not a premeditated design of
deliberate and malicious destruction of life. I expressed an opinion
that one mortal stab would indicate more malice than could be inferred
from the eleven furious blows. My representations were received with
courteous attention, and the applications for mercy were acceded to; but
the unfortunate man died in the Richmond Bridewell in less than six
months after the transaction. His heart was broken. I may mention here,
that whilst I was a crown prosecutor on the Leinster circuit, and during
my tenure of magisterial office, I never knew of an application for
mercy to be made to the Executive that did not receive the fullest and
fairest consideration, and I believe that all the Governments of which I
had any knowledge or experience were equally desirous to avail
themselves of any opportunity for tempering justice with mercy.
The other murder which occurred in our division was perpetrated in
December, 1841, by a young man named Delahunt. In the character of this
culprit there was an amount of cool, dispassionate, and deliberate
predilection for crime, surpassing any details in the pages of the
"Newgate Calendar," or the "Archives of the Parisian Police." About one
year previous to the last-mentioned date, a poor Italian organ-grinder
was found lying close to the wall of Rathfarnham demesne, on the
roadside near Rathfarnham bridge. His throat had been cut, and a belt
which he usually wore round his waist, and in which it was supposed that
his scanty savings were stowed, had been taken away. A man named Cooney,
a tinker, had been seen in the immediate vicinity of the place, and he
had been taken into custody on suspicion, by the constabulary. An
inquest was being held, when Delahunt accosted Colonel Browne, the
Commissioner of the Dublin Metropolitan Police, in the Castle yard, and
told him that he (Delahunt) had seen the murder committed. The Colonel
immediately directed one of his serjeants to take the man out to the
coroner, as the offence had been committed in the county, and outside
the police district. On being produced at the inquest, Delahunt swore
that he had seen Cooney murder the Italian. A reward of twenty-five
pounds had been advertised for the conviction of the perpetrator of the
fearful assassination, and that accounted for Delahunt's promptitude in
offering his testimony. On the trial of Cooney at the ensuing
commission, the jury disbelieved Delahunt, and acquitted the tinker. I
am satisfied that they arrived at a proper conclusion, and I strongly
suspect that if Delahunt really knew anything about the crime, it was
owing to himself being the perpetrator.
In about four months after the trial of Cooney, there was a contested
election in the city of Dublin, at which it was deemed expedient to
utilise the canvassing abilities of a considerable number of
coal-porters. These energetic advocates of liberty took considerable
liberties with such voters as they found recusant to their wishes, or
even tardy in complying with their demands. They were provided with
hackney cars, and provided themselves with cudgels. Individual
resistance or even indifference to their behests occasioned very
forcible applications to the heads and shoulders of any elector, and
when they brought him to the hustings, his attention was invited to a
reserved body specially stationed in the vicinity of the polling booths,
from whom he was informed that he might expect very strong censures on
his want of patriotism, if he voted on the wrong side. After the
election, some prosecutions were instituted for threats and actual
assaults on voters, and there was one case in which a retired military
gentleman had been dragged from his bed in a state of illness, and
violently assaulted with cudgels. A reward was offered for the discovery
and conviction of his assailants, and Delahunt at once came forward. He
pointed out on the quay, six coal-porters as the guilty parties, swore
that he had heard them directed to go to the gentleman's residence and
bring him to the poll, and that he followed them and witnessed the
entire transaction. They were committed for trial at the Commission
Court, and there Delahunt most positively identified the six. One of
them had a large hare-lip, and the party who had been assaulted swore
that the fellow with the split lip was not present at the outrage.
Another of the accused established the fact, by the evidence of
constables and turnkeys, that he had been convicted on the day previous
to the attack on the voter, and that he was in gaol for drunkenness and
disorderly conduct at the time when Delahunt swore to having seen him
assaulting Captain C----. The six coal-porters were acquitted, and
Delahunt's sanguine expectations of an ample reward were completely
disappointed.
On the 20th of December, 1841, a little boy named Thomas Patrick
Maguire, eight years of age, was playing with some other children in
Blackhall Row. The children were of the humblest class, and Maguire was
bare-footed. Delahunt, having previously ascertained his name, and that
he lived with his mother in Plunket Street, told him that he had been
sent to bring him to her. The poor boy went with him, but was not
brought home. Delahunt took him to a distant part of the city, and
called at his (Delahunt's) brother's lodgings in Little Britain Street,
where he stated to his sister-in-law that Maguire was a stray child
whom the police had given into his care to take home. He sharpened two
knives at his brother's, and after his departure with the child, one of
the knives was missed. In the meantime, he brought the little fellow
across the city, bought some cakes for him, and took him into a lonely
lane in the suburbs, close by Upper Baggot Street, and there between
seven and eight o'clock in the evening, he cut the child's throat. In a
very short time, the body was found, and taken to a police-station in
order to have an inquest held. Delahunt reappeared, and stated that he
had passed the end of the lane, and had seen a woman throw the little
boy down, and that she passed close to him, and went hurriedly away. He
said that he had no idea of the child having been killed at the time,
but thought that the woman had chastised him for some offence or naughty
trick. He named a woman, and declared that he could swear to her.
Unluckily for him, the woman whom he designated had been very sick
during the entire day, and confined to bed, to the positive knowledge of
several friends and neighbours. Some persons recognised Delahunt as
having been with the boy, and amongst them was the woman from whom he
had bought the cakes. In a field adjoining the lane where the corpse was
discovered, a knife was found, which was sworn to by his sister-in-law
as having been sharpened by him, and subsequently missed. She also
identified the body of the child as that of the boy whom Delahunt had
with him at her residence. He was finally tried and convicted of the
murder on the 14th of January, 1842, and was executed on the 5th
February. He made a full confession of his guilt, and acknowledged that
he had falsely accused Cooney the tinker of murdering the Italian, and
that his evidence against the coal-porters was totally unfounded. He
disclaimed all malice or ill will against the poor child, Maguire. He
declared that he only wanted to be rewarded for convicting some person
of murder, and that he could not originate such a charge without the
preliminary procurement of a corpse. In a volume of Dickens's
periodical, _All the Year Round_, and under the title of "Old Stories
re-told," there is a full narration of murders committed by Burke,
Bishop, and Hare, for the purpose of selling the bodies of their victims
to anatomical schools. Each distinct case of crime perpetrated by those
miscreants was of less aggravated turpitude than the offence for which
Delahunt was hanged, for they contemplated the destruction of the
sufferer as the consummation of a design, but Delahunt deprived one
individual of life on the speculation that he would thereby be enabled
to obtain a reward, perhaps a trifling one, by consigning another
fellow-creature to the precincts of a gaol, and ultimately to the
ignominious horrors of a public execution, for a crime committed by
himself, and imputed, by his deliberate perjury, to an innocent being,
whose hand was unstained and whose heart was untainted. For a
considerable time after his execution, he was reputed, especially
amongst the humbler classes, to have been a police spy, and to have been
in receipt of frequent subsidies from the detective office. He was never
produced in any court as a witness at the instance of the police. In the
case of the coal-porters, he applied to me for funds to enable him to
remain in Dublin until the trial was held, and I refused his
application. He repeatedly offered superintendents and inspectors to
swear to cases of illicit or irregular traffic in liquors, but they
never believed his statements, nor would they, in any instance, avail
themselves of his proffered testimony. No villainy could be more
unprofitable than Delahunt's systematic attempts to support himself by
false accusations of others. I feel perfectly satisfied that, instead of
deriving the wages of an informer or spy from the metropolitan police or
from the constabulary, he never cost the public one penny beyond what
sufficed for his maintenance in gaol whilst under committal for his
diabolical offence, and to provide the halter which he most thoroughly
merited.
The contemplation of such a character may not be unproductive of some
salutary results. Whilst we acknowledge and admire the blessed
tendencies of the most elevated virtues, a wholesome and very
instructive lesson may be derived from the contrast exhibited and the
eventual disgrace and destruction almost invariably incident to a
complete lapse into utter depravity.