CHAPTER XV.A DUPER DUPED.

'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 mycomingso often. I nevercamebefore you or any magistrate. I was alwaysbrought. 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 consignedto 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.

I shall now proceed to relate a magisterial reminiscence in which the only fictions are the names of the parties, and I trust that at the termination of the narrative, my readers will agree in the moral which I shall attempt to deduce, that the person who commences a cheating game is not to be pitied, if, at the close, he finds himself the only loser.

Twenty-five years have elapsed since, in an aristocratic family, in a central county of Ireland, a young woman was residing in a capacity rather difficult to define. She was somewhat above a menial and below a governess, neither the companion of her employers nor the associate of the servants. Her educational attainments were very limited, and her industrial power was of little value, for she was of small frame and delicate constitution. The care of two children was deputed to her, and all services necessary for their health, comfort, instruction, correction, or amusement were expected from Elizabeth Jones.

She had enough to do, but she did not think so. Her life was monotonous, her tastes were not congenial to the circumstances and persons amongst whom she was placed. A native of Wales, far from her kindred, and prevented by her position from forming, amongst her own sex, a friendship, or even an acquaintance to which she could attach any value, her only resource was to fall in love,—and a few casual attentions from an officer of constabulary quite overcame poor Elizabeth Jones.

"He dazzled her eyes, he bewilder'd her brain,He caught her affections so light and so vain."

"He dazzled her eyes, he bewilder'd her brain,

He caught her affections so light and so vain."

He perceived that he was loved, and pretended a reciprocal feeling. He promised, and vowed, and swore that she should be his wife, and he deceived her.

Richard Gilmore was sorely annoyed when Elizabeth Jones suggested very strong reasons for the immediate observance of his solemn promise of marriage; but he refused compliance, and sought to convince her that their union would only ruin him without saving her. She addressed her remonstrances to deaf ears. Marriage was out of the question, and she found herself a ruined, friendless creature, with the certainty of a speedy and disgraceful expulsion from the house in which she had for some years humbly earned her subsistence. However she vented no reproaches; she only upbraided with a tear, and communicated her determination to depart and carry her sorrows to some distant locality. Of this intention Richard fully approved; and he congratulated himself on the prospect of being so soon delivered from any future annoyance on the part of Elizabeth Jones. She fixed the time for leaving her situation, and requested a last interview with Mr. Gilmore, at an early hour, before the inmates of the house were stirring. Richard was punctual. She opened a writing-desk, and informed him that she had come to the resolution of releasing him from every promise on his part, from every claim which she could advance then or at any future time, on one condition; she only required his written pledge, upon his honor as an officer and a gentleman, that he would never seek to renew his acquaintance with her, or even pretend to know her if they met. To this he joyfully acceded, and placed the required document in her hands; but his curiosity induced him to enquire as to her motive in seeking such a solemn written undertaking.

"Richard Gilmore," she said, "I was prostrated by acute and increasing misery, but a door of escape from total disgrace and destruction has been opened. I can never be happy, but I may have some opportunity for reflection, and ultimately, my mind may become somewhat tranquil. I shall soon be a mother. I am about todepart from Ireland for ever, and shall fix my residence in a retired part of England, and there, in the garb and under the designation of a widow, I shall devote myself to the care of the child of whom you are father, but for whom, I only insist and have stipulated with you, that you shall never disgrace your offspring by disclosing its paternity, and never remind me by your presence of the degradation to which, by your falsehood, I have been reduced."

"But," said Gilmore, "your means are scanty, and for a time you must be incapable of any industrial pursuit or exertion. I can give you some pecuniary assistance; it is my duty to do all I can to alleviate your sufferings. I deserve your reproaches, and would gladly do anything to prove that I am not so utterly heartless as you think me."

"No, Richard Gilmore; not a farthing would I receive from you, if it were to save me from starvation. To you I owe my ruin, but with you I have no further communication; and I shall never allow you to think that I have compromised my wrongs for money, or taken a price for my character. Moreover, I may now tell you that I shall not want your assistance; and as I feel that you dare not break your written undertaking, you may read this."

She placed in his hands a letter, of which the following is a copy, substituting fictitious names:—

"Abergavenny, June 14th, 1847."Miss Elizabeth Jones,"Madame, I hasten to apprize you of the death of your lamented aunt, Miss Rebecca Jones, who expired yesterday morning, after a very short indisposition. The respectable deceased applied for my professional assistance about three weeks since, in the settlement of her worldly affairs. For some years she had lived in great seclusion, and was extremely averse to any communication with your brother; she would never see his wife. In fact, her relatives seem to have been disliked in proportion to the proximity of their residence; and it is to your long absence from her that I ascribe the preference which she has evinced towards you, on which I offer you my respectful congratulations."By your aunt's will (which is in my possession) she has devised to you several freehold interests in and adjacent to this town, producing about £300 per annum; she has also bequeathed to you£2,000 secured by mortgage on the property of Mr. Deacon, of Aberystwith, and a bond of Mr. Edmond Morgan, of Cardiff, for £1,100."I hope, Madame, you will feel that in the capacity of your respective relative's confidential adviser I have not been hostile or even indifferent to your interests; and I beg to assure you that, if your affairs are entrusted to my care, I shall make every exertion to justify the preference that I respectfully solicit."I have the honour to be, Madame,"Your obedient, humble servant,David Wynne,Solicitor."PS.—Mrs. Wynne desires me to convey, with her respects, a request that if you visit Abergavenny, you will honor her and me by becoming our guest during your stay."

"Abergavenny, June 14th, 1847.

"Miss Elizabeth Jones,

"Madame, I hasten to apprize you of the death of your lamented aunt, Miss Rebecca Jones, who expired yesterday morning, after a very short indisposition. The respectable deceased applied for my professional assistance about three weeks since, in the settlement of her worldly affairs. For some years she had lived in great seclusion, and was extremely averse to any communication with your brother; she would never see his wife. In fact, her relatives seem to have been disliked in proportion to the proximity of their residence; and it is to your long absence from her that I ascribe the preference which she has evinced towards you, on which I offer you my respectful congratulations.

"By your aunt's will (which is in my possession) she has devised to you several freehold interests in and adjacent to this town, producing about £300 per annum; she has also bequeathed to you£2,000 secured by mortgage on the property of Mr. Deacon, of Aberystwith, and a bond of Mr. Edmond Morgan, of Cardiff, for £1,100.

"I hope, Madame, you will feel that in the capacity of your respective relative's confidential adviser I have not been hostile or even indifferent to your interests; and I beg to assure you that, if your affairs are entrusted to my care, I shall make every exertion to justify the preference that I respectfully solicit.

"I have the honour to be, Madame,"Your obedient, humble servant,David Wynne,Solicitor.

"PS.—Mrs. Wynne desires me to convey, with her respects, a request that if you visit Abergavenny, you will honor her and me by becoming our guest during your stay."

"Good heaven!" exclaimed Richard Gilmore, "how delighted I am, my dearest Lizzie, at your good fortune." I shall fully and faithfully observe my pledge; but before we part, consider well whether you should not use your altered circumstances for your own comfort, for the complete prevention of every future pain and difficulty, and above all, for the sake of your unborn offspring. If I could, without absolute ruin, have redeemed the promise which my passion produced, you should never have had occasion to upbraid me. I loved you fondly, dearly; and it is in your power to give me an opportunity of proving, whilst we live, a faithful and devoted husband."

"Ah, no!" said Elizabeth, "our marriage could never be happy; we would be mutually miserable. You would never respect her whom, in her supposed poverty, you scorned; and our union now would be as much the subject of scandalous comment as if you wedded me this day openly at the church of Castle——."

"If you marry me, my darling Lizzie, I shall adopt means to prevent exposure, or even suspicion. You shall leave this place immediately, go up to Dublin, and take a lodging in one of the small city parishes, where few Protestants reside. I shall obtain leave of absence, follow you to Dublin, take out a license, and after a short stay I shall return and effect an exchange to a remote county,where I can present you to society as my wife, without any suspicion being entertained that our union has been too recent for your reputation. There your child can be born without any stain on its birth, or any cloud on its future prospects. Come, Lizzie dear, forget and forgive; I am still your own fond Richard."

He seized her hand, her struggle was slight, his arm encircled her waist, and on her lips he imprinted the seal of his future truth and of her present forgiveness. In two days Elizabeth Jones was lodging in Nicholas Street, Dublin, and in about a week Richard Gilmore was married to her in the church of St. Nicholas. The wedding was very private and quiet, the only witnesses being the man in whose house they lodged, his wife, and two young persons whose attendance they procured.

Three or four days elapsed, and Richard Gilmore accosted his bride. "Lizzy," he said, "I cannot delay my return to duty beyond another week. I have already made application for an exchange; but before I return to the country, I think it would be well if I went over to Wales and regulated the future receipt of your rents, and also ascertained how the money due by Deacon and Morgan is circumstanced. If they pay five per cent, punctually, we shall be very comfortable. I have calculated that, with my pay, we shall have near £600 a-year. I shall buy a nice jaunting-car and——"

"You need not trouble yourself, Richard," said Mrs. Gilmore, very solemnly, "about my property in Wales. In fact, I have just taken a leaf out of your own book, and if the perusal is disagreeable, it is not to me that the authorship should be imputed. You made me a promise of marriage, you broke your word, and refused to save me from disgrace and misery. I procured a letter to be written about property that never existed, and made you believe that it was your interest to marry her whom your affection or sense of honor did not suffice to shield from destruction."

"You infernal Jezebel! you lying profligate! debased and degraded you shall be. I shall never live anotherhour with you. I shall never give a farthing to save you or your brat from starvation."

"I thank you, Mr. Gilmore, for myself and my coming brat. Thank heaven, you cannot say my bastard. You know what course it best answers you to take, but——"

Richard Gilmore was gone. Presently he was heard descending the stairs, and in a few minutes more the landlady announced to Mrs. Gilmore that her husband had departed, having first paid the lodging rent for the coming week, and having relinquished any further tenancy.

Mrs. Gilmore heard this intelligence with surprising calmness, and replied by informing the landlady of Mr. Gilmore's position, and of the place where he was stationed; adding that she would stay for the time for which the rent was paid, and that then, when she would be really destitute, she would go toTHE WORKHOUSE. She imparted a good deal of confidence to the landlady, whom we shall name Mrs. Canavan, and who, seeing that she would not lose anything, gave Mrs. Gilmore her utmost sympathy. Mrs. Canavan was a fair specimen of human nature; for we never refuse our sympathy to our unfortunate fellow-creatures when we are not asked for anything more.

In another week Mrs. Gilmore proceeded to the South Dublin Union Workhouse, and there informed the admission committee that her husband was a constabulary officer; that his income was about double the reality; that he had some private property and great expectations; and that she, on the eve of heraccouchement, was deserted by her husband, and compelled to become an inmate of the workhouse.

The committee admitted the applicant, registered the admission, and brought the case before the Board of Guardians on the following Thursday, when they obtained a ready sanction to prosecute Mr. Gilmore for deserting his wife, and leaving her, as a pauper, chargeable on the rates. A summons bearing my signature issued, and the constabulary officer appeared at the police-court. The marriage was proved, as were the circumstances of the desertion. On the part of the Guardians a demand wasmade for the immediate committal of the delinquent, to be imprisoned, with hard labor for three months. Richard Gilmore escaped a formal conviction by paying the expenses already incurred, and undertaking to allow twenty shillings weekly for his wife's maintenance. All parties left the police-court; but in an hour or two after the case had been heard, Richard Gilmore returned and applied to me to have Elizabeth Jones, calling herself Gilmore, apprehended on a charge of bigamy. He alleged that she had been married in Wales about four years previous to her marriage with him, and that her husband, Thomas Jones, was still living. His assertions were made on statements which he had received from others. He had no legal evidence of the charge, and I refused to issue a warrant for the apprehension of the alleged bigamist, but he determined to persist in the accusation. He seized on his wife in the public street, and gave her into the custody of a constable on a charge of felony. On the following morning he stated on oath that he had been informed, and fully believed, that the prisoner had been married to one Thomas Jones in a parish church near Carnarvon; that said Thomas was still living; and he further swore to the marriage of the prisoner with himself in the city of Dublin. He asked for a remand, and stated that he expected to produce witnesses from Wales to prove his charge. I remanded the accused for six days, and Richard left Dublin by the next Holyhead packet in quest of evidence to convict his wife. Before she was removed to prison she sent to me a short note, in which she implored me to direct that no person should be permitted to see her in the prison unless at her own request; and further, that on the day for resuming the investigation, she should be placed amongst a number of females, and that the witnesses should be required to identify her from amongst the others. I considered those requests to be fair and reasonable, and directed that they should be complied with. Richard Gilmore returned to Dublin the day before the resumption of the case. He brought over two witnesses, and sought at the prison to give them a view of theaccused, but they were denied admittance. On the appointed day Elizabeth Gilmore was brought from the prison, and placed in the carriage-court with about a dozen of other females, amongst whom was Mrs. Canavan, her Nicholas Street landlady, who manifested great interest in her sufferings, and great indignation at Richard Gilmore's attempt to transport an innocent creature whom he had vowed to love and cherish. Without separating the prisoner from the other women, I proceeded to swear the first witness, one William Jones, who stated that he was a parish clerk of some unpronounceable place in Wales; that he remembered the marriage of Thomas Jones and Elizabeth Jones, and he produced the registry; he recollected the matter very distinctly, the more so from the parties being both of the same name as himself. I directed him to look at the women present, and to point out the one whom he had seen married at the time mentioned in the registry if she was amongst them. Mr. Jones walked to the group, viewed all the women, and very deliberately placing his hand on Mrs. Canavan's shoulder, identified her as the culprit. He was instantly electrified by a burst of abuse, delivered in an accent acquired much nearer to Patrick Street than to Penmaemawr.

Mrs. Canavan's vocabulary was too copious to be select. I do not think that I could have restrained her, and I admit that I allowed her a latitude from which I derived some amusement. She descanted on the propriety of "cropping the ears"[5]of perjured parish clerks, but gave up that idea as, on full consideration, it appeared too mild a treatment for the Welshman. She proceeded to assure him, that there was not a gaol in Ireland that would refuse him admission; and that in no place of such a description could he meet with anyone worse than himself. She appealed to my benevolent tendencies to have the Welsh fellow transported at once, upon the grounds that it would be "a charity;" and she descanted on the physiological defect in such a parish clerk having beenborn without handcuffs, suggesting an artificial amendment of the natural deficiency. She thanked Mr. Jones for the pleasant news, that she had one husband in Dublin and another in Wales, and assured him that he might expect some very particular attentions from the Dublin one in acknowledgment of his testimony.

"And still she talked, and still the wonder spread,That one small tongue could utter all she said."

"And still she talked, and still the wonder spread,

That one small tongue could utter all she said."

The parish clerk was overwhelmed with confusion, but Richard Gilmore persisted in his charge, and demanded the examination of his remaining witness. Accordingly, a Mrs. Edwards was sworn. She deposed that the Thomas Jones mentioned in the registry was her brother. She had not been present at the marriage, but was satisfied that her brother was living, for she had seen him at Swansea about a month previous, at which time he was proceeding to America as supercargo in a merchant vessel. On further examination, she stated that she was aware that Thomas and Elizabeth Jones had separated within the last two years, and this put an end to the case, for a reference to Gilmore's information showed that his acquaintance with the prisoner commenced nearly three years before their marriage. I remarked that the only allegation fully and clearly proved was the marriage of Mr. Gilmore to Miss Jones in the church of St. Nicholas; and it only remained for me to discharge the prisoner, to congratulate the parties on the removal of all imputation on the legality of their union, and to wish them many years of connubial happiness. Richard Gilmore did not manifest the slightest gratitude for this kind expression; he left the court without asking his wife to accompany him, but she was not compelled to betake herself again to the workhouse. Her weekly stipend was continued. Soon afterwards a son was born, and he is now a confidential employé in an extensive mercantile establishment in Dublin. I do not believe that he ever sought his father, or that his father ever took the slightest notice of him. Wishing him prosperity and happiness, I hope that hemay never be necessitated to engage in any correspondence or enquiry relative to his mother's property in Wales. She resided for a considerable time in one of our southern suburbs, and latterly affected no secrecy as to the means which she adopted to effect her marriage. In the year 1858, I expressed, in some conversations with a medical man of her acquaintance, a wish for the particulars, and a copy of the letter which I have given to my readers was enclosed to me by post, without any accompanying condition, or even an indication of the quarter from whence it was furnished.

FOOTNOTE:[5]Cropping the ears was in former times a punishment for perjury.

[5]Cropping the ears was in former times a punishment for perjury.

In the "Dublin Annals" given in Thom's Almanac and Official Directory, it is stated in reference to the year 1822, "Riot in the theatre, on the Marquis of Wellesley, the Lord Lieutenant's first visit thither, during which a bottle was flung into his Excellency's box."

At the time referred to, I had not attained a profession, and my magisterial position was twenty years distant. I have, however, a very distinct recollection of the affair, as I was seated about the centre of the pit during the riot, and I have to notice that the statement in the Dublin Annals is incorrect. It contains, perhaps, the only inaccuracy that can be found in that voluminous and comprehensive publication. No bottle was flung into the viceregal box, but a rattle was thrown, which struck the front of the box, fell inside, and was raised and held up to the view of the audience by the Lord Lieutenant himself. A bottle was thrown from one of the galleries, and it struck the curtain in the middle with such violence, as to form a kind of bay for itself, and it slipped down on the stage, close to the foot-lights, and was taken up unbroken by the leader of the orchestra.

Prosecutions for riot were instituted, and amongst othersa man named Henry Hanbidge was indicted. To him was imputed the throwing of the bottle, and some persons swore informations to the effect, that they were in the middle gallery, and that the bottle was cast from the upper gallery to the centre of the curtain. The proceedings for riot were ineffective. There was no conviction.

When I became a magistrate, in casual conversations with Pemberton, Cox, and others, the "bottle and rattle riot" formed a topic. They said that the assertion of the bottle having been cast from the upper gallery was generally disbelieved. It was, in fact, regarded as an impossibility. Major Sirr and Alderman Darley went one morning, whilst the prosecutions were pending, to the theatre, bringing a large hamper of bottles, and accompanied by some active and powerful peace-officers, who were directed to throw bottles from the upper gallery to the curtain, but not a bottle reached even the orchestra. The roof of the theatre sloped forward and downwards, and the elevation required to send the missile to the curtain invariably smashed it against the ceiling, and distributed the broken glass about the pit. The Major and Alderman came to the conclusion that the riotous bottle had been cast from the boxes or lower gallery.

In about ten years after the affair at the theatre, the house of Sir Abraham Bradley King in Dame Street was consumed by fire. The conflagration commenced in the lower part of the premises, in which there was a great quantity of stationery. The first and second floors were almost immediately in flames. The catastrophe occurred on a Sunday morning. No fire brigade was then organized, no fire escapes had been provided. A man was in the top front room, and he had no access to the roof. A fearful death appeared to be his inevitable fate, when another man emerged from the roof of a neighbouring house, carrying a rope of six or seven yards in length, at one end of which he had formed a running noose. He stood on the narrow parapet over the window, and let down the looped end to the poor fellow, whose only chance of escape depended on the sheer strength and steadiness of an individual. Therope was fastened round the waist of him whom the flames were fast approaching, and he was carried along by the intrepid fellow whose courage and humanity excited him to risk his own life to avert destruction from another, until the window of the adjoining house was reached, and the rescue was completed. This heroic act was accomplished by Henry Hanbidge.

I had been ten or twelve years in office as a police magistrate, when I was applied to by a poor old fellow who was suffering acutely and completely debilitated by rheumatism, to sign a recommendation for his admission to Simpson's Hospital. The applicant was Henry Hanbidge. I most readily complied with his request, and told him that I would insert a few observations on his noble achievement at the fire in Dame Street. He expressed the deepest gratitude for my disposition to serve him. When I was giving him the document, I said, "Now, Hanbidge, might I ask you who threw the bottle?" He replied, "I did, your worship." I asked him "from what part of the house was it thrown?" "From the upper gallery, your worship. A friend and I had emptied the bottle, and I ran my stick into the neck, and shot it straight to the curtain off the stick." My predecessors had not thought of such a mode of projection.

During my tenure of office I had an undesirable monopoly of the cases brought forward for infractions of the Excise laws, and also an ample share of imputed violations of the statutes regulating the Customs duties in the City and County of Dublin. The barristers who preceded me as magistrates of the Head Police Office, had, in consideration of such business being disposed of by them, an addition of £105 to their salary; but when I was about a month in office, I was favored with a communication that, without prejudice to the continuance of the work, I was to be exonerated from the trouble of receiving or acknowledging the usual pecuniary remuneration. The proceedings instituted by the Excise were, almost invariably, ofan uninteresting character. I only recollect one which I consider worth recording in these pages. The premises of a maltster were visited by a revenue officer, and in one of the rooms he observed that a board of the floor was rather loose under his step. He raised it, and found a shoot which led to another floor in adjoining premises, which were apparently untenanted, and in which a large quantity of fresh malt was in process of drying. The principal workman in the maltster's employment dropped on his knees, implored mercy, and said that he would confess all. He then stated that he had made the communication for the purpose of stealing his master's malt, and that he had taken away all that was found by the officer in the adjoining store. He produced from his pocket a key for the external door of the building in which the malt was found. The maltster escaped the infliction of a very heavy penalty, but the workman was convicted on his own confession of stealing the malt, and was sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment. I subsequently was informed that during his confinement the man whom he had robbed (?) supported his family most comfortably, and as soon as the culprit terminated his incarceration,he was received back into the maltster's employment.

As to the infractions of the Customs laws, my cases all consisted of tobacco or brandy, and the seizures were, in almost every instance, effected immediately on the arrival in port of the respective ships. I believe that the intelligence of smuggling ventures being on board was almost always furnished by those from whom the contraband articles were purchased, or by the attendants in taverns or liquor shops, before whom unguarded conversations might have occurred, and in some instances from both sources. According to my recollection, the great majority of detections occurred on board vessels coming from places belonging to the British Crown. Jersey contributed largely to the contraband traffic, Gibraltar afforded an occasional venture, and the timber ships from the British provinces in North America were frequently made available to the illicit importation of tobacco. A fine brig from St. John's,New Brunswick, named, as well I can remember, "The Hope," arrived in Dublin in the summer of 1852. She was boarded in the bay by some officers of Customs, to whom the master stated that his cargo was exclusively timber. No other description of goods was mentioned in the vessel's papers. The officers proceeded to raise some boards at the foot of the cabin stair, and took out a large quantity of Cavendish tobacco. They then entered the cabin and removed some other boards, finding an abundance of tobacco, which had been there concealed. The master was arrested, and having been brought before me, I remanded the case, by the wish of all parties, for a week. The revenue authorities did not institute any proceedings involving the condemnation of the brig, but they sought the conviction of the master, who was adjudged by me to pay two hundred pounds, or in default of such payment, to be imprisoned for six months. His wife had been the companion of his unfortunate voyage, and their separation, on his committal to prison, was extremely sad. He was a fine-looking young man; I think his name was Harris, and he stated that he belonged to St. John's. The wife was also a native of that place, and I never beheld a woman who, in my opinion, surpassed her in personal beauty. Moreover, she was very near the time when to the designation of "wife" the term "mother" would be added. Whilst I condemned the man I deeply commiserated the woman, and all who witnessed their parting sympathized in her affliction. At the Richmond Bridewell, he was treated with much kindness, and was frequently allowed access to the gardens, to which, as well as to his prison-room, his wife was constantly admitted. There was a young man confined at that time at the instance of some of his relatives. He was a very extraordinary person. In him great literary attainments were combined with imaginative power: he had a mind which could

"Give to airy nothingA local habitation and a name."

"Give to airy nothing

A local habitation and a name."

He sometimes lapsed into excessive intemperance, during which he exhibited such violent tendencies as justified a committal for two months in default of substantial bail. This imprisonment brought him into association with Harris the tobacco smuggler. They became confidential friends. At this time about two months of the smuggler's term had expired, and his fellow-prisoner expressed an anxiety that they should both be liberated together. Harris could not perceive how such a wish could be accomplished, but the other thought it perfectly feasible. He prepared a memorial to the Commissioners of Customs, which he desired Harris to sign, and it was forwarded forthwith. In a few days I received a letter from the solicitor of the Customs, and with it the memorial. The Commissioners expressed their willingness to have three months taken off the term of the smuggler's incarceration, provided that the committing magistrate did not object to such a commutation. I immediately forwarded the fullest approval of such lenity, and having read the memorial, I returned it to the solicitor. I regret that I did not keep a copy of it, for it was a document which I feel myself incompetent to describe in terms suitable to its merits. In refined and elegant language it acknowledged the commission of the offence and the justice of the punishment inflicted. It declared a determination to abstain in future from every wilful infraction of the laws, and implored the commiseration of those to whom it was addressed for the misery to which the memorialist was reduced, even though it had originated in his own misconduct. His young and affectionate wife, who had accompanied him from her native country, had been unable to withstand the pressure of their misfortunes, and had gone to an early grave in a strange land, being attacked by premature childbirth. He had not even the mournful privilege of assisting at the interment of his beloved consort and her offspring; but from the gloomy precincts of a penal prison he besought the authorities to come to the merciful conclusion that he had suffered enough.

Half of his imprisonment was abrogated, and the time of his discharge was at hand. I was about to leave the police-court on an afternoon, when I was informed that a lady earnestly requested an interview for a few minutes. To this application I acceded: and the fair visiter, having apologized for her intrusion, proceeded to inquire—

"If you please, sir, will you kindly inform me whether my husband's time of imprisonment is to be calculated from the day of his arrest or from the day of his trial?"

I asked the name of the lady, and she replied that she was Mrs. Harris. I remarked that "I was agreeably surprised, as I had seen it stated that she was dead."

"Oh, sir," she exclaimed, "that was put in the memorial by Mr. —— without even my husband's knowledge. However, I lost my little baby. But I hope that you will not tell that I am alive." I then informed her that her husband's term commenced from the date of his conviction, and she retired. I did not feel it necessary to give any publicity to Mrs. Harris's continued existence.

When the Ajax man-of-war was stationed at Kingstown, the officer in command frequently exercised his crew in warlike operations. In the year 1844, as well as I now recollect, he announced his intention to have a mimic attack made on the ship, by boats, at night. A vast number of persons assembled to behold a spectacle intrinsically grand and peculiarly novel to a Dublin public. The operations commenced about ten o'clock, and continued for upwards of an hour. Signals of alarm were displayed by numerous lights of various colours, and they were succeeded by tremendous discharges of artillery and musketry, above which the cheers of the supposed combatants were frequently audible. At length the assailants retired, and the Ajax remained intact and triumphant. The spectators were most enthusiastic in their applause of the bloodless conflict, which certainly was most deserving of public admiration. However, it afterwards transpired that during the sham battle in the harbour, some extraordinary operations were effected in the vicinity. A smuggling vessel landed a cargo of tobacco close to theKingstown end of the eastern pier, but outside the harbour. The venture was completely successful, and several days elapsed before the revenue authorities received any intimation of such a daring proceeding. The cargo was conveyed away partly by rail, partly by road, and it was reported that almost the whole of it was transmitted to Limerick, but nothing tangible resulted from enquiries or searches. On the same night another cargo was landed on Dalkey Island, and hastily concealed amongst the rocks. It was supposed to have been brought by a consort of the craft which had made the other run. On the following day, a man, apparently of the seafaring class, gave information to the Customs that he knew where there was a large quantity of contraband tobacco concealed, and that he was willing, for the usual remuneration, which I believe was nearly half the value of the commodities, to conduct them to the place. He accordingly took them to Dalkey Island, where they found the tobacco. It was subsequently rumoured, and I believe the rumour was well-founded, that he was the master of the vessel from which it had been landed; and as one cargo had been successfully smuggled, and the vessels had got away in safety, the reward, incident to discovering the other cargo, was sufficient to pay the prime cost and expenses of the two ventures, and to realize a considerable profit on the whole transaction.

Lest the favorable issue of the illicit speculation which I have last narrated should have the effect of encouraging or even suggesting to any individual any connection with such traffic, I would say that I noticed the successful issue of the enterprise as an extraordinary and exceptional incident. Detection is generally the result, with forfeiture of the goods, fine, or imprisonment. About four years before I retired from office, a young man who had a fine fishing-boat at Howth, and who was engaged to be married, went off to Jersey, and freighted his craft with tobacco and brandy. A revenue cutter was sent to meet him, and he was captured within view of his native hill. His vessel forfeited, his cargo seized, himself aprisoner, and utter ruin substituted for his dazzling but delusive hopes, he lapsed into the extreme of despair, jumped overboard, and perished. His fate should deter, more than a casual and extraordinary escape should encourage, an infraction of the revenue laws.

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 oneach 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 Phœnix 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 thereception 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."

"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 inall 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 Cœlius. 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 hisvisions 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.

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 divisionappurtenant 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 thesoubriquetamongst 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 forher 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 predilectionfor 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 andshoulders 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 astray 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 "OldStories 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 lessonmay be derived from the contrast exhibited and the eventual disgrace and destruction almost invariably incident to a complete lapse into utter depravity.

I shall now advert to a most atrocious murder which was committed in the Metropolitan Police District in 1856. It occurred in the Northern division, and I was requested by the learned and worthy Chief Magistrate, Mr. J. W. O'Donnell, to assist in its investigation. Mr. George Little, the Cashier of the Midland Great Western Railway, had not returned to his residence on the evening of the 14th November, and on the following morning, his relatives enquired for him at the office in the station. The office door was broken open, and he was found lying on his face in a pool of blood, his throat having been cut from ear to ear. At first the impression was that he had committed suicide, for a considerable sum of money was on his desk. However, it was ascertained by an examination of the body, that many very severe injuries had been inflicted, and that the skull had been fractured by blows from a heavy, blunt instrument. A coroner's inquest returned a verdict of "Wilful murder by some person or persons unknown," and a large reward was advertised for the discovery and conviction of the perpetrator. No arrest was made on suspicion until the 21st of December, when a person was brought before the Northern Police Court, but was very speedily discharged. I refrain from mentioning the name, because there is no doubt that the charge was unfounded. It was rumouredthat an experienced London detective had been specially engaged to afford his assistance in the furtherance of justice, but nothing of importance transpired until the 26th June, 1857, when a woman, named Spollen, informed a superintendent of police that her husband, James Spollen, was the murderer, and that he had concealed the bank-notes which he took from Mr. Little's office in a certain place immediately adjoining a small house which he occupied on the railway premises, he being in the Company's employment as a painter and cleanser. The superintendent immediately arrested Spollen, but kept him in his own custody from ten o'clock in the morning until nearly ten o'clock at night, when he brought him to a police station-house and gave him in charge for the murder, producing the wife of the accused as the charging party. The place indicated by the woman was immediately searched, and a considerable sum in bank-notes was discovered concealed in an ashpit, and packed in a small firkin, which had previously contained white paint. Some money in silver was also found in a canvas bag deposited in a cistern, and the utmost publicity was given to the searches, the results, and the source from whence the information concerning them was derived. His wife's evidence against Spollen was properly rejected by the magistrates; and although the case was sent for trial on other grounds, the result was an acquittal. During the magisterial investigation, I suggested that a portion of the Royal Canal close to the railway premises should be drained and searched, as I considered it very probable that some of the implements used in the murder had been thrown into the water. When the search commenced, the superintendent announced that whoever found the razor should receive a guinea. A razor was accordingly found in the mud almost immediately, but it was manifest that it had not been there until the search was directed, for it was perfectly free from rust or corrosion. However, another razor was found, and the name of "Spollen" was on the handle. A fitter's hammer was also taken out of the canal, and it was more than probable that the razor and hammer had been infatal proximity to the throat and head of the unfortunate George Little. After the trial, some of the London papers commented in the strongest terms on the ignorance and stupidity evinced in the preliminary proceedings of the police officer to whom the case had been assigned. The bungling, blundering incompetency which characterised the transaction was described as truly Irish. They also complained that the English detectives who had been sent to Dublin were thwarted and impeded in all their efforts by the members of the Dublin force. I fully admit that the case was thoroughly mismanaged, but I must add that the person most prominently engaged, the superintendent, was an Englishman, and I deny that English detectives had to encounter Irish jealousy, as no person of the description was sent to Dublin in reference to that crime, or indeed in any instance within my recollection, without meeting a cordial, perhaps I might venture to say, a fraternal, reception from the Dublin Police. I may add that whenever our constables were sent to the English metropolitan district, they invariably returned with a grateful recollection of the kindness manifested towards them.

In the case to which I have last adverted, and in some others which came under my observation, I attribute the failure of justice to the ignorance and consequent incapacity of members of the police force or of the constabulary engaged. However, I consider it only just to remark on the paucity of instruction afforded to constables for detective purposes. Activity of body, corporeal strength, general mental intelligence, and moderate educational acquirements, are considered sufficient qualifications for the discharge of detective duties, and further teaching is left to be acquired by future experience. In several continental states, reports of important criminal trials are arranged for the use of the police by anarchiviste, and instruction is thereby afforded as to the means by which guilt was established, or, perhaps, to the mistakes or rash precipitancy by which justice was defeated, or innocence accused. The essential difference between our police andthat which I have observed in France, Belgium, and Rhenish Prussia, is exhibited in the speedy arrests of suspected persons here, compared with the tardiness of apprehension in the latter countries, unless the prisoner is actually caughtin flagrante delicto. The moment that a suspicion is entertained in Ireland, the supposed delinquent is seized, and thereby all chance of obtaining evidence by his subsequent acts is completely lost. The foreign system is to watch him night and day. This frequently eventuates in detecting him concealing property, weapons, or bloodstained clothes, or suddenly quitting his abode without any previous intimation, and perhaps under an assumed name. If we are to have an efficient police, we will find it indispensably necessary to keep well-informed, shrewd, patient, watchful detectives. I have known many who contended that a constable should adopt no disguise, but that, in the uniform of the force to which he belongs, he should perambulate the streets, suppress disorders, apprehend offenders, and when directed to execute warrants, he should go in search of the culprit openly and avowedly. To such I would suggest, that if in the organization of a police there is anything unconstitutional, it is rather to be found in the adoption of a uniform than in the attire of "plain clothes." The old common-law constable had no uniform; he went, and came, and mixed amongst other men, without a number on his collar or a crown on his buttons, and still his office and its functions were not denounced as unconstitutional. A policeman in uniform may patrol our streets, suppress riots, restrain indecency, and apprehend the pickpocket or drunkard; but it is not by such that the progress of the swindler is to be traced and stopped, the haunts of the burglar ascertained, or that the minute circumstances, trifling to the casual observer, but amounting, in the aggregate, to perfect conviction, are to be discovered and concatenated to establish the fearful guilt of the murderer.

Having remarked the inefficiency manifested by the officer to whom the management of the murder case at the railway was assigned, I think it fair to state, thatamongst some other members of our detective division, I have known instances in which great sagacity and promptitude were evinced. Shortly after my appointment to the magistracy, an old man died in a lodging-house in Bishop Street. The place in which he had lived for nine or ten years was a small room without the slightest indication of comfort or even of cleanliness. Nevertheless, he was reputed to have been possessed of a considerable sum of money, which was supposed to be hoarded in some part of his humble habitation. Two of his relatives made oath that they believed him to have accumulated some hundreds of pounds; that they suspected and believed that the cash had been purloined; and they demanded that the house should be strictly searched. I gave a search-warrant to a detective named James Brennan, who proceeded to the house, and stated his function to the landlady. She declared that the man had been miserably poor, that he died in complete destitution, and that they had to bury him in a parish coffin. Brennan searched the premises most rigidly, but the expected treasure was not forthcoming. Some of the landlady's female neighbours expressed great indignation at "any honest woman's place being ransacked after such a manner." One of the garrulous sympathizers declared that "so far was the landlady from having a lot of money, that she was hard set to live, and that the very night the old man died, the poor woman had to pledge her best feather bed, at Booth's the pawnbroker's, for a few shillings." Brennan took his leave, and immediately went to the pawn-office. He had the bed produced, and observed that the stitching on one seam was fresher in appearance than on the others. He ripped the seam, and in the middle of the feathers he found seven notes, each of a £100, and two of £20. The affair eventuated in the money being divided amongst the kindred of the deceased. The landlady denied all knowledge of the money, and insisted that the old man must have concealed it himself. She was not prosecuted, but Brennan's intelligence was rewarded with one of the £20 notes.

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