CHAPTER VIII

OTHER ESCAPES AND RESCUES

The rescue of the young Irish revolutionist, John Mitchell, was the

first of the series of escapes participated in by Irish patriots.

Mitchell was a talented and brave young man, whose life and history

have been an inspiration to the devotees of Irish freedom. He was

originally a writer upon the "Nation," but its policy was too

conservative for his tastes, and in 1847 he founded a new journal

called "The United Irishman." Mitchell belonged to that section of

"young Ireland" which advocated immediate war with England. He believed

the time was now ripe, and he set about making his paper as obnoxious

to the English government as possible. He was a brilliant writer and an

enthusiast for the revolution. His plan was to force the hand, first

of the English government, then of the Irish people. He deliberately

challenged the government to arrest the leaders of his party. Then he

calculated that the Irish people would rise to defend or rescue their

heroes, and rebellion would be effected.

For three years he continued his taunting tactics. He wrote in a

strain of fiery sedition, urging the people to prepare for warlike

effort, while he described how to make pikes and use them; how to cast

bullets; and how to make the streets as dangerous for cavalry horses

as Bruce made the field of Bannockburn. Some of the agencies which

were suggested for the use of the people, when they should take up

arms, were almost devilish in their ferocity, such as the employment of

vitriol. At length the government was forced to recognize the violence

of young Mitchell's newspaper attacks, and a measure was framed by the

government to meet the case, enabling it to suppress newspapers like

"United Irishman" and imprison the publishers. Mitchell was defiant

still, and he was arrested. Greatly to his chagrin, no attempt was

made to rescue him. "Had there been another Mitchell out of doors,

as fearless and reckless as the Mitchell in the prison," writes a

historian, "a sanguinary outbreak would probably have taken place."

He was sentenced to expatriation for fourteen years, and was deported

first to Bermuda and then to Australia. Smith O'Brien, Meagher, and

other of the confederate leaders were likewise sent there.

In 1853 P.J. Smyth, who was known as "Nicaragua," a correspondent of

the "New York Tribune," was commissioned by the Irish Directory of New

York to proceed to Australia and procure the escape of Mitchell and his

political associates. Mitchell was under parole, and his sense of honor

would not permit him to leave without surrendering it. On June 8, 1853,

in company with Smyth, he presented himself to the police magistrate

in Bothwell and surrendered his parole.

"You see the purport of that note, sir," said he. "It is short and

plain. It resigns the thing called 'ticket of leave' and revokes my

promise, which bound me so long as I held the thing."

Then they left the magistrate, who was either stupid or afraid to make

an attempt to detain them, and, mounting horses, rode through the

Australian woods until Hobart Town was reached, when they sailed on

the passenger brig Emma to Sydney, and in due time reached the United

States. Meagher soon followed. O'Brien declined to have anything to

do with any plot for escape while he was on parole, and his honorable

conduct was rewarded by a pardon.

After reaching this country, Mitchell founded a paper advocating

slavery, and championing the Southern cause in the Rebellion. One of

his last acts here was a lecture, the proceeds of which went to swell

the fund which was being raised for the Catalpa expedition. Later

he returned to Ireland, where, owing to some defect in the criminal

law, he could not be arrested, his time of penal servitude having

expired, although he had not served it. He was elected to Parliament

for Tipperary, was disqualified for a seat, and then reëlected. Some

turmoil was expected, when Mitchell was withdrawn from the controversy

by death.

"Weep for him, Ireland, mother lonely;

Weep for the son who died for thee.

Wayward he was, but he loved thee only,

Loyal and fearless as son could be.

Weep for him, Ireland, sorrowing nation,

Faithful to all who are true to thee;

Never a son in thy desolation

Had holier love for thy cause than he."

The rescue of Kelly and Deasy at Manchester was daring and successful,

but it was only accomplished by the killing of one man, and three

were subsequently hanged for complicity in the affair. Colonel Kelly

and Captain Deasy, Fenian agents in England, were captured by the

Manchester police on September 11, 1867, and a week afterward were

arraigned at the Manchester police office. Being identified as Fenian

leaders, they were again remanded and placed in the prison van to be

conveyed to the borough jail. They were in charge of Police Sergeant

Charles Brett. When half way to the prison, and just as the van passed

under the railway arch over Hyde Road at Bellevue, a man jumped into

the middle of the road, pointed a pistol at the head of the van-driver

and ordered him to stop. Immediately thirty armed men swarmed over

the wall which lined the road. A shot was fired, and the driver was

so frightened that he fell from his seat. One horse was shot, and the

gallant police escorts scattered and ran for their lives.

An endeavor was then made to break in the door of the van. It was

locked on the inside, and the key was in the possession of a police

officer named Brett, who sat within. A shot was fired at the key-hole

to blow off the lock, and the unfortunate police officer received a

wound from which he died soon after. The doors were then opened, a

woman prisoner in the van handing out the keys, which she found in

the pocket of the officer. "Kelly, I'll die for you," said one of the

Fenian rescuers.

He kept his word.

The prisoners were freed, and were seen to enter a cottage near the

Hyde Road. They left it unfettered, and were never seen after by

English officials. Several men were put on trial for the murder of

Brett, and five were found guilty,--Allen, Larkin, O'Brien, Condon or

Shore, and Maguire. The defense was that the prisoners only meditated

a rescue, and that the death of the policeman was an accident. The

five were sentenced to death, but the newspaper reporters were so

certain that Maguire was not concerned in the affair that they joined

in a memorial to the government, expressing their conviction that the

verdict was a mistake. The government made an investigation, and found

that he was not near the spot on the day of the rescue,--that he was a

loyal private in the Marines, and not a Fenian. He was pardoned, but

not unnaturally the circumstances caused a grave doubt with relation to

the soundness of the verdict in the other cases.

Strenuous attempts were made to secure a commutation of the sentence.

Mr. Bright was foremost with his exertions, and Mr. Swinburne, the

poet, wrote an appeal for mercy, from which a few verses are quoted:--

"Art thou indeed among these,

Thou of the tyrannous crew,

The kingdoms fed upon blood,

O queen from of old of the seas,

England, art thou of them, too,

That drink of the poisonous flood,

That hide under poisonous trees?

"Nay, thy name from of old,

Mother, was pure, or we dreamed;

Purer we held thee than this,

Purer fain would we hold;

So goodly a glory it seemed,

A fame so bounteous of bliss,

So more precious than gold.

* * * * *

"Strangers came gladly to thee,

Exiles, chosen of men,

Safe for thy sake in thy shade,

Sat down at thy feet and were free.

So men spake of thee then;

Now shall their speaking be stayed?

Ah, so let it not be!

"Not for revenge or affright,

Pride or a tyrannous lust,

Cast from thee the crown of thy praise.

Mercy was thine in thy might,

Strong when thou wert, thou wert just;

Now, in the wrong-doing days,

Cleave thou, thou at least, to the right.

* * * * *

"Freeman he is not, but slave,

Whoso in fear for the State

Cries for surety of blood,

Help of gibbet and grave;

Neither is any land great

Whom, in her fear-stricken mood,

These things only can save.

"Lo, how fair from afar,

Taintless of tyranny, stands

Thy mighty daughter, for years

Who trod the winepress of war;

Shines with immaculate hands;

Slays not a foe, neither fears;

Stains not peace with a scar!

"Be not as tyrant or slave,

England; be not as these,

Thou that wert other than they.

Stretch out thine hand, but to save;

Put forth thy strength, and release;

Lest there arise, if thou slay,

Thy shame as a ghost from the grave."

The government refused to listen to the appeals, and Allen, Larkin, and

O'Brien were hanged at Manchester on November 23, 1867, meeting death

with courage and composure, we are told. Shore escaped, since he was

proven to be an American citizen, and the English spared him lest the

protection of the American government might have been invoked in his

behalf.

One more incident may be added to the chapter of Fenian rescues. This

was the attempt to blow up the House of Detention at Clerkenwell in

December, 1867, where two Fenian prisoners were confined. This affair

was farcical in conception, but its results were cruelly tragic.

"At the very time that this horrible crime and blunder was

perpetrated," writes a historian, "one of the London theatres was

nightly crowded by spectators eager to see an Irish melodrama, among

the incidents of which was the discussion of a plan for the rescue of

a prisoner from a castle cell. The audience was immensely amused by

the proposal of one confederate to blow up the castle altogether, and

the manner in which it occurred to the simple plotters, just in time,

that if they carried out this plan, they must send the prisoner himself

flying into the air. The Clerkenwell conspirators had either not seen

the popular drama or had missed the point of its broadest joke."

A barrel of gunpowder was exploded close to the wall. Sixty yards

of the prison wall were blown in, and many small dwellings in the

vicinity were shattered. A dozen persons were killed, one hundred and

twenty were wounded, and there were other serious consequences. Had

the prisoners been near the wall, they would have been killed. Five

men and a woman were put on trial for the crime, but only one man was

convicted. He was found guilty on the evidence of an informer and

executed. It was agreed that the persons who were concerned in this

plot were "of that irresponsible crew who hang on to the skirts of all

secret political associations, and whose adhesion is only one other

reason for regarding such associations as deplorable and baneful. Such

men are of the class who bring a curse, who bring many curses, on even

the best cause that strives to work in secret. They prowl after the

heels of organized conspiracy, and what it will not do they are ready

in some fatal moment to attempt."

And this brings us back to the last and most important of Irish

national rescue projects.

The Catalpa Expedition · 第 8 / 29 章