THE EDENBURN OUTRAGE
In the early part of the winter of 1884, so bad did the state of Kerry
become, and so menacing was the attitude of the Land Leaguers towards
myself, that I felt I had no right to endanger the lives of my wife and
daughters by any longer permitting them to reside at Edenburn.
In all those years, from 1878 to 1884, be it noted that I gave more
employment in Kerry than any one man, a fact which has been testified to
by different parish priests, but at the same time I was agent for a
great many landlords, and tried my level best to get in rents for my
employers.
For this cause my life had been repeatedly threatened, and now, in
November 1884, dynamite was put to my house, the back of it being badly
blown up. There were sixteen individuals in the house, mostly women and
children, and an attempt was therefore made to murder them all in the
effort to take the life of one individual they were afraid to meet in
the open.
The house was repaired and I received compensation in due course from
the County, but my family did not think after what had occurred that
Edenburn was a desirable place of residence. So I henceforth resided
much in London, and therefore spent a great deal less money in Kerry.
Perhaps, however, I had better be a little more diffuse about what was
known all over the British Isles as the Edenburn Outrage, but the bulk
of this chapter will be drawn from observations by members of my family
and newspaper accounts, for the episode left considerably less
impression on my mind than it did on that of my womenfolk, and indeed on
the public, at the time.
To show how matters stood, one of my daughters reminds me that I gave
her a very neat revolver as a present, and that whenever she came back
from school she always slept with it under her pillow. Moreover, she
recollects that the customary Sunday afternoon pursuit was to have
revolver practice at the garden gate.
There had been several episodes of an ugly nature; for example, one of
my sons competing in some sports at Tralee was advised to make an excuse
and to go home separately from the womenfolk.
He took the hint, and my wife with the governess and several children
went back without him in the waggonette. About a mile and a half from
the town, just where the horses had to walk up a steep hill, a number of
men with bludgeons and sticks came out of a ditch, peered into the trap,
and seeing it contained nothing but women and children let it pass on
with a grunt of disgust, whilst they trudged back to Tralee.
One of my daughters, years after, on being taken in to dinner in London,
was asked by her companion if she was any relation of mine.
She having confessed the fact--one I hope in no way detrimental, though
I say so, perhaps, who should not--he mentioned that he had been to a
most cheery dance at Edenburn, which had made a great impression on his
mind, because for seven miles along the road by which he and his friends
drove there were pickets of constabulary, and the hall table was piled
so full with the revolvers brought by the guests, that all the hats and
coats had to be taken to the smoking-room.
It may be as well to again mention that my wife during the very worst
periods had never any difficulty in keeping or obtaining domestic
servants. No doubt the maids liked having two or three stalwart
constables always hanging about the place, and capital odd job men they
made.
A constable neatly humbugged a footman, and I may here mention the
incident, though it is subsequent to the episode of this chapter.
One house we took in London was in Glendower Place, and when the
servants arrived, my wife found that the footman's face was covered with
sticking-plaster. He was a regular gossoon, though shaped like a fine
specimen of the pampered menials who condescend to open the front door
of large mansions to their betters.
A constable had hoaxed him into believing that he could never walk in
the London streets without using firearms, and having advised him to
learn to do so, the idiot put the weapon against his cheek, and the
first kick had knocked away a voluminous portion of his countenance.
At the end of November 1884, we were packing up to leave, and all the
big cases were in the stable-yard ready to be carted away. There were
five policemen at the time in the house, and two of them were on sentry
duty all through the night.
None of us had had good nights for some time past, but on the evening of
November 29th I came back from the meeting of the Board of Guardians at
Listowel, and said to my wife as we sat down to dinner:--
'After all, we are starting for England to-morrow morning without any
necessity, for I do believe the country is beginning to settle down.'
This is the only occasion on which I ever ventured on a cheerful
prophecy since Ireland came under the baneful spell of Mr. Gladstone,
and it was the most foolish remark I ever made.
That night came the explosion, but I prefer to let the press tell the
tale.
The _Manchester Guardian_ relates:--
'The explosive matter was placed under an area in the basement story,
dynamite being the agent employed for the outrage. A large aperture was
made in the wall, which is three feet thick. Several large rents running
to the top have been made, and it now presents a most dilapidated
appearance. The ground-floor, where the explosion occurred, was used as
a larder, and everything in it was smashed to pieces, the glass
window-frames and shutters being shivered into atoms. On the three
stories above it, the explosion produced a similar effect. To the right
of it, one of Mr. Hussey's daughters was sleeping, and the window of her
room was entirely destroyed. Mr. J.E. Hussey, J.P., slept in another
room about thirty feet from the scene of the explosion, and his window
and room fared similarly. The butler slept in a small room on the
basement, which was completely wrecked, the windows being shattered to
pieces, the lamp and toilet broken, and the greater part of the ceiling
thrown on him in the bed. The length of the house is about fifty yards,
and the windows in the back, numbering twenty-six, have been altogether
destroyed. Mr. S.M. Hussey and his wife slept in the front, and they
were much affected by the explosion. Three policemen who had been
stationed in the house for the past couple of years slept on a
ground-floor in front. The coach-house and stables near the house were
considerably damaged. In the garden two greenhouses, one about 120 yards
away, and the other fully 150, were injured, the greater portion of the
glass being broken and the roofs shaken. In several houses at long
distances the shock was plainly felt. The dwelling-house subsequently
presented a very wrecked appearance. On looking at the back of it, there
are several rents or cracks to be seen in the solid masonry, and the
slates are shaken and displaced. Everything shows the terrific force of
the explosion. In the yard a large slate-house was much damaged, the
slates being displaced and the roof shaken and cracked. A large stone
was found here, having been blown from the dwelling-house.'
From the _Times_ may be culled these additional particulars:
'There is a fissure some inches wide in the main wall from the ground to
the roof, and a little more force would have effected the evident object
of making the residence of the obnoxious agent a heap of ruins. The
damage done is estimated at from £2000 to £3000, but this is only a
rough conjecture.'
The _Cork Constitutional_ throws further light in a somewhat badly
expressed article:--
'The most extraordinary circumstance connected with the outrage is the
secrecy and stealth which must have been resorted to in order to avoid
detection. It was well known in the neighbourhood that not alone were
three policemen constantly at Edenburn for Mr. Hussey's protection, but
that a number of dogs were also kept on the premises, and it is,
therefore, astonishing the care and caution which must have been
resorted to in order to successfully lay and explode the destructive
material. Some idea of the force of the explosion as well as the
stability of the building which resisted it in a measure, may be
gathered from the fact that it was distinctly heard in the town of
Castleisland four miles away. Mr. R. Roche, J.P., who lives a mile from
Edenburn, also distinctly heard the explosion, which he describes as
resembling in sound that caused by the fall of a huge tree in close
proximity. Those who were at Edenburn at the time state that between
four and half-past four a low rumbling noise, followed by a sharp
report, was heard. The house trembled and shook to its foundations. The
inmates, some of whom were only awakened by the shock, were seized with
an indescribable terror. All the windows were smashed to atoms, the
furniture and fixtures in the interior were rattled, and some lighter
articles disturbed from their position. The suddenness of the alarm, and
the darkness of the night, coupled with an indefinite idea as to the
nature and extent of the explosion, made the occupants of the house
afraid to stir, and it was not until some servants living adjacent
arrived that the consternation caused in the household subsided
sufficiently to enable them to examine the house, and judge of the
narrow escape they had had from a violent and horrible death.'
The consternation most decidedly did not spread to the master and
mistress of the establishment. The _Kerry Sentinel_ quickly had an
allusion to 'a report that Mr. Hussey turned into bed after the outrage
with one of his laconic jokes--that he should be called when the next
explosion occurred.'
As a matter of fact what I did say was:-"My dear, we can have a quiet
night at last, for the scoundrels won't bother us again before
breakfast."
And I can solemnly testify that within ten minutes of that observation I
was fast asleep, and never woke till I was called.
But perhaps the best impression of what occurred can be obtained from
the recollection of my daughter Florence, now Mrs. Nicoll, who was an
inmate of Edenburn at the time.
'I was awakened by a terrific noise, which to my sleepy wits conveyed
the impression that the roof had fallen in. It was then between three
and four in the morning. I lit a candle and ran out into the passage
where were congregating my family in night attire. My father was
perfectly calm.
'"Dynamite and badly managed," was his laconic explanation. We all asked
each other if we were hurt, and began to be alarmed about my brother
John, who, however, put in an appearance in a singularly attenuated
nightshirt, with a candle in one hand and a revolver in the other, with
which he was rubbing his sleepy eyes.
'"Singular time of night, John, to try chemical experiments without our
permission, is it not?" said my father.
'Then John and my mother went downstairs to inspect the premises; of the
back windows, thirty-four in number, there was not a bit of glass as big
as a threepenny piece left. Our brougham was in the yard; the window
next the explosion was intact, but the one on the further side was blown
to smithereens.
'The servants were very scared, and one maid having rushed straight to a
sitting-room, was there found hysterically embracing a sofa cushion.
'We received one odd claim for compensation. An old woman living half a
mile off complained that the force of the explosion had knocked some of
the plaster off the wall, and that it had fallen into a pan full of
milk, spoiling it.
'Whilst we were all chattering about the outrage, father said:--
'"Don't be uneasy about a mere dynamite explosion; it's like an
Irishman's pig, you want it to go one way and it invariably goes in the
other."
'And with that he went off to bed again, with the remark about having a
quiet night which he has mentioned earlier in this chapter.
'The only other thing which I now recall is, that a detachment of the
Buffs in the neighbourhood had found us the only people to entertain
them.
'On being told that Edenburn had been blown up, one of them said:--
'"They were the only neighbours we had to talk to, and the brutes would
not leave us them as a convenience."'
The Cork correspondent of the _Times_ wrote:--
'Among the general body of the people of Kerry, the news of the attempt
to blow up Mr. Hussey's house at Edenburn caused comparatively little
excitement. In the County Club at Tralee, the announcement was received
with something like a panic. Hitherto, persons who considered themselves
in danger were careful to be within their homes before darkness had set
in, and when going abroad had a following of police for their
protection. Now it is shown that their houses may prove but a sorry
shelter, even when a protective force of police is about, and it is no
wonder that, with the terrible example furnished in this instance of the
daring of those who commit foul crimes, the class against whom the
outrages are directed should be filled with fears for the future. The
people generally show but small interest in the occurrence.
'The attempt to blow up Mr. Hussey's dwelling is the first of its kind
in Kerry, and the third that has been made in Ireland. Within the past
few years the districts of Castleisland and Tralee have been
distinguished for the number and ferocity of the outrages that were
committed there.'
I am also tempted to quote from the 'Leader' in the _Times_ on the
outrage:--
'Mr. Hussey has a reputation, not confined to Ireland, as an able,
fearless, and vigorous land agent, the best type of a much abused class
of men who have endured contumely and faced dangers, by day and night,
in order to protect the rights of property intrusted to them.
'It appears that, owing to the disturbed state of the locality, he
intended to leave it for the winter; and this probably being known to
his enemies, they made an effort to destroy him before he got beyond
their reach. He, at all events, seems to have been under the spell of no
pleasing illusion as to the supposed tranquillity and the reign of
order. On the contrary, he is alleged to have stated that more outrages
than ever are committed, and that but for the deterrent force employed
by the Government, there would be no living in the country, ... This is
the opinion of the majority of Englishmen. They are not all satisfied
that the spirit of lawlessness and disorder is rooted out; and they will
find only too strong confirmation of their doubts in the reckless
violence of the National Press, and in the attempt--marked by novel
features of atrocity--to destroy Mr. Hussey's household.'
As for the National Press, it indulged in an ecstasy of enthusiasm over
the perpetration, combined with intense disgust "at the miscarriage of
justice" of my having escaped without hurt or more than very temporary
inconvenience. On my departure, one eloquent writer compared me to
'Macduff taking his babes and bandboxes to England,' a choice simile I
have always appreciated.
The _United Ireland_ of December 6, 1884, in a characteristic
leaderette, headed 'A very suspicious affair,' observes:--
'We should like to know by what right the newspapers speak of the affair
as "a dynamite outrage"? A very curious surmise has been put forward
locally, namely, that the house had been stricken by lightning. The
shattering of a building by lightning is by no means phenomenal, and the
absence of all trace of any terrestrial explosive agency, gives colour
to the hypothesis that the destruction was due to meteorological
causes.'
With one last quotation I cease to draw upon what may be termed outside
contributions, and it is one which gratified me at the time.
It is taken from the _Cork Examiner_ of December 12, 1884:--
'Dear Sir,--Authoritative statements having been made in the Press and
elsewhere, that some persons living in Mr. Hussey's immediate
neighbourhood must have been the perpetrators of the horrible outrage,
or, at least, must have given active and guilty assistance to the
principal parties concerned in it; now we, the undersigned, tenants on
the property, and living in the closest proximity to Edenburn House and
demesne, take this opportunity of declaring in the most public and
solemn manner that neither directly nor indirectly, by word or deed, by
counsel or approval, had we any participation in the tragic disaster of
November 28. The relations hitherto existing between Mr. Hussey and us
have ever been of the most friendly character. As a landlord, his
dealings with us were such as gave unqualified satisfaction and were
marked by justice, impartiality, and very great indulgence. As a
neighbour he was extremely kind and obliging, ready whenever applied to,
to help us, as far as he was able, in every difficulty or trial in which
we might be placed. The bare suspicion, therefore, of being ever so
remotely connected with the recent explosion, is, to us, a source of the
deepest pain, a suspicion we repudiate with honest indignation.
Furthermore, the singular charity, benevolence, and amiability of Mrs.
Hussey are long and intimately known to us. We witness almost daily her
bountiful treatment of the poor, and tender care of the sick and infirm.
Her ears never refuse to listen with sympathy to every tale of distress,
nor will she hesitate with her own hands to wash and dress the festering
wounds and sores of those who flock to her from all the surrounding
parishes. With such knowledge as this, we should indeed be worse than
fiends did we raise a hand against the Hussey family, or engage in any
enterprise that would necessitate their departure from among us:--
'Richard Fitzgerald.
Denis Daly.
John Reynolds.
Cornelius Daly.
William Hogan.
Darby Leary.
John Mason.
Jeremiah Dinan.
J. O'connell.
John Neligan.
Daniel Neill.
John Daly.
Thomas Connor.
Jeremiah Connor.
Thomas Shanahen.
Michael Moynihar.
Widow Aherne.
James O'sullivan.
John M'elligott.
Henry Gentleman.'
As for those really concerned, people tell me that the three implicated
in the dynamite business are all dead in America, and if the information
is accurate no local person was connected with the explosion, though the
miscreants were, of course, housed in the immediate vicinity.
There was one delicious incident.
The local branch of the Land League at Castleisland refused to pay any
reward to the dynamiters because we had not been killed, and the leading
miscreant actually fired at the treasurer. Eventually the passages to
America of all the triumvirate were paid, and they thought it discreet
to quit the country, cursing their own stingy executive even more deeply
than they blasphemed against the Law and execrated me.
A man from the neighbourhood subsequently wrote to me from London that
he could tell me who perpetrated the Edenburn outrage.
I told him to call on me at the Union Club, of which I was then a
member, and informed him--his name was O'Brien--I would arrange with the
Home Office, in the event of his information being valuable, that he
should get a reward.
He replied that his life was in danger in London from another Fenian.
I went to the Home Office and saw Mr. Jenkinson on the subject. He asked
me to send O'Brien down to him and he would settle matters, adding that
he had reason for believing that the story of threats from another
scoundrel was true.
I saw O'Brien and told him to call on Mr. Jenkinson.
He answered that he would go, but he never did, and Mr. Jenkinson
subsequently told me that the Land League scented he was going to prove
a troublesome informer, so they practically outbid the Government by
paying O'Brien a large sum, which was handed to him on the steamer as it
was starting for America.
From that time, until I have been recalling the incidents of the
explosion for this book, I have never given a thought to the affair and
not mentioned it half a dozen times in the twenty years that have
elapsed.