FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[15]This abbreviation strictly copied from the memoirs, appears to be intended to conceal the complete designation of the young lady and her family.[16]The original phrase is "Une fois n'est pas coutume."

[15]This abbreviation strictly copied from the memoirs, appears to be intended to conceal the complete designation of the young lady and her family.

[16]The original phrase is "Une fois n'est pas coutume."

It is probable that these pages will be perused by some who recollect a recent attempt to substitute a child procured in an English workhouse for the veritable heir to an Irish earldom. It is extremely improbable, that, in any part of the world, they may be read by any person unacquainted with the main circumstances of the lengthened investigations, which terminated in theconviction of a spurious aspirant to an English baronetcy. I shall now offer my second selection from the French memoirs. It relates to a claim to a title of nobility, and, looking to the source from which the statements have been derived, I think they may fairly be designated a true account of a falsehood.

The Marquis de Coucy sent his son to be nursed at Gonesse, where he was left during three years, as was usual at that period (the reign of Louis XIV.) The young Count was then brought back to his paternal home, and became the idolized darling of his parents, who had no other child. When the proper time arrived to commence his education, the first masters were engaged. His progress was most rapid, and at sixteen, having completed his preliminary studies, he was entered at the Military Academy.

One day, whilst he was amusing himself along with some of the Rohans, the Tremouilles, a Duguesclin or two, and several of the young Rochefoucaults, a decrepit female, hideously ugly, excessively dirty, although not badly clad, proposed to this party of high-born lads to tell their fortunes. Some haughtily rejected the old impostor, others eagerly embraced her offer, and amongst them the young Coucy. She took the hands of four or five in succession, told them her idle stories, and pocketed their money.

All, through a motive of amusement, even those who were not desirous of making a personal experience of her imaginative power, surrounded the fortune-teller. When it came to the turn of the young Count de Coucy to extend his palm, he offered it. The old hag examined his hand for a much longer time than she had devoted to the inspection of the preceding ones, and suddenly rejecting it with every indication of disdain, she exclaimed—"Back, fellow! Begone, clown! I am here to speak only to gentle-folk, and not to tell the future destiny of a peasant's son."

At these words there was a universal laugh: some ridiculing the old woman on her divining power, othersventing a good-humoured raillery upon their companion. He knew not whether to be jocular or angry. They informed the old woman of the name and title of the illustrious youth whom she had designated the son of a peasant, but she continued to swear by all the saints that the young Coucy was nothing else. The uproar occasioned by this denunciation continued to such a pitch, that the captain of cavalry, the commandant of the academy, interfered, and calling a groom, directed him to turn out that woman.

"That a woman!" exclaimed the groom; "I would wager that it is a man."

Another groom declared that he had seen an individual, in the habit of a peasant, enter a neighbouring tavern, from whence, in about a quarter of an hour, he had issued disguised as a female; and he averred that the fortune-teller whom they had just expelled was the same person. The young Count de Coucy heard these statements with indifference; but as they referred to a creature who had seemed to take pleasure in insulting him, they did not entirely lapse from his recollection.

Six months passed. One morning the Marquis de Coucy, being in his room, was discussing with the Marchioness a project of marriage for the young Count; they were anxious to marry him to a princess of the house of Lorraine. In the midst of their deliberations, a valet-de-chambre appeared. He was the brother of the young Count's foster-father, and the servant to whom the Marquis manifested the greatest liking and confidence. He apologised for disturbing their conversation, and stated that a young man, of a most elegant demeanor and prepossessing manner, and whose appearance seemed almost familiar to him, requested to be admitted.

"Let him come in," said the Marquis. The stranger is introduced. He is youthful, and appears not to have passed his seventeenth year; his figure slight and symmetrical; his aspect expressive and bland; his carriage is good, he has a sweet smile, and his salute is agreeable. Still his deportment does not suggest that noble blood is coursing through his veins. He has not the aristocraticair which a courtly life imparts, or the polished manner derived from elevated society.

The young man appears under the influence of some strong emotions; he produces a letter, and presents it to the Marquis. It is received, and the youthful stranger sinks upon his knees, and covers his face with his hands, as if about to implore pardon for some great transgression. Here is the letter:—

"Monseigneur,—Sixteen years have this day elapsed since, yielding to the pernicious suggestions of my wife, I committed a horrible crime, of which I now accuse myself, and for which I must endeavor to make all possible reparation, by a full acknowledgment of my offence. This luckless day saw your legitimate heir taken from his cradle, and my poor son substituted for the noble child. The imposture still continues, and it is the son of Maurice Lesourd and Madeleine Ledaille that, in your princely mansion, occupies the position due to your legitimate offspring, whose youth has been condemned to the weary labours of a rustic life. Whilst my wife lived, I reluctantly concealed this scandalous transaction, but her death, this very day, terminates my guilty silence; and as I do not involve her in the punishment due to my offence, I feel the less repugnance in submitting to the justice of the violated laws. I send you, monseigneur, your son; he will deliver this letter, and it is for you to place him in his rightful position. I shall receive, in return, the unfortunate creature from whom a brilliant career of life is thus withdrawn. Can my utmost tenderness ever repay him for the loss incident to this disclosure?"I am ready to maintain, before any tribunal, the integrity of this statement; and I cherish the hope, that I may still enjoy some portion of your distinguished protection. I have the honor to be, Monseigneur, your most humble, most respectful servant,—"Maurice Lesourd."

"I am ready to maintain, before any tribunal, the integrity of this statement; and I cherish the hope, that I may still enjoy some portion of your distinguished protection. I have the honor to be, Monseigneur, your most humble, most respectful servant,—

"Maurice Lesourd."

The Marquis could not believe his eyes. The Marchioness fell lifeless at the reading of this startling communication; but presently, yielding to a natural impulse, raising the young man from his humble posture, they pressed him to their hearts, and mingled their tears whilst recognising his title to their affections.

One thing surprised the Marquis, the style of the letter. The young man declared that it was written by the brother-in-law of Lesourd, the chief clerk of a Parisiannotary. "He it was," added the youth, "that stimulated Lesourd to this act of justice; he is an excellent man, worthy of the patronage of Monseigneur ——"

"Say your father's patronage," replied the Marquis; "but his noble conduct shall not lack acknowledgment and recompense; from this day he shall be my confidential agent. My present agent wishes to retire, being aged and infirm."

Meanwhile, the Marchioness, recovering from her excitement, recollecting the virtues and high endowments of him whom she was no longer to term her son, began to consider that to deprive him of the rights with which he had been so long vested, would require something more than the mere will, or even the conclusive determination, of the Marquis. Her husband found himself meshed in the most embarrassing manner; and the new aspirant, who is already invested with the title of Count de Coucy, perceives that he has to encounter an obstacle of which he had not calculated the strength and magnitude, namely, the adverse possession by his rival for upwards of fourteen years of the position in which he now sought to supersede him! How was he to deprive him of title, rank, fortune! How was he to banish him from a family of which he had so long been a cherished member? There was nothing in his deportment denoting the inferiority of his birth. He bore no resemblance, indeed, to either the Marquis or Marchioness de Coucy, but his likeness to the father of the latter had frequently been remarked.

He now enters the apartment. His air is noble, and with respectful affection he embraces the parents of his love. Their fondness for him of whom they had been so proud, and by whom their anxieties and hopes had been engrossed, is irrepressible. They are plunged into heartbreaking perplexity. They cannot allow the awful storm suddenly to burst upon him. Neither the Marquis nor his lady could summon courage for an explanation, which, nevertheless, it was impossible long to defer. The new claimant is withdrawn for the time, a large sum is given for his use, and both of the parents, to whom he hasso lately presented himself as their offspring, assure him that a speedy and rigid investigation shall be instituted.

Persons of the highest discretion and of the greatest sagacity are put in requisition. Experienced magistrates, profound lawyers, are consulted. They mostly declare that the confession of the foster-father is insufficient; but some incline to a different opinion. The matter could not be concealed; in a few days it becomes publicly known. The partisans of the new claimant make loud comments on the insulting and disdainful manner, with which a fortune-teller at the academy had repelled the Count, telling him that he was a plebeian. The gentlemen who were present attested this fact, to which immense importance was attached.

The unfortunate Count trembled with rage at these attacks. He tenderly loved his parents, and was deeply shocked at the bare possibility of losing their affections. M. de la Rochefoucault, his most intimate friend, announced to him the damaging effect of the scene with the gipsy. For a long time the Count had forgotten this event; but when it was mentioned by his friend, all the circumstances recurred to his mind, and amongst them the expressions of the two grooms. They are sent for. One repeats that he believed the person referred to was a man disguised as a female; the other declared that he had seen a peasant enter the tavern known asde la Bonne-Foi, rue du Petit-Lion-Saint-Sauveur, and that the same person soon after issued forth in female attire.

The Count and his advisers betook themselves to this tavern. They did not find it easy to enlighten the proprietor, or bring him to appreciate the importance of their inquiries; but when he had sufficiently collected his ideas, he declared that a peasant of Gonesse, with whom he was personally acquainted, one Lesourd, had asked to be accommodated with a room in which he could disguise himself, and, he added, that Lesourd stated his motive for the trick to be, that he was employed by the parents of a young man to watch his conduct at the academy, and that the disguise thus adopted afforded him the best means of making his observations.

This was an important discovery. Lesourd encountered it by declaring that the better to punish himself for his substitution of the false heir, and to prepare a triumph for the cause of truth, he had made this preliminary denunciation of his son. This reason appeared unsatisfactory; such conduct was not straightforward or candid. Truth abhors disguises. Still the mystery was undiscovered, and all remained involved in doubt. The most conflicting opinions continued to be entertained, and the best society in Paris sought no other topic for conversation than the merits of the respective claimants to the honors of the illustrious house of Coucy.

We have to recollect that, on the recommendation of the new candidate, the brother-in-law of Lesourd had been appointed agent to the Marquis de Coucy. He had quitted the notarial office in which he had been previously employed, and for several weeks had discharged the duties of his new and important function. He had laboured with great zeal to establish the claims of the recent comer, and omitted no opportunity of furthering his cause. This man, Romain Ladaille, possessed a spaniel, an extremely sagacious and gentle animal. The Marchioness became fond of the dog, and allowed it into the apartments of the mansion, where it became a complete pet. One morning Romain was engaged with the Marquis on some business of importance. A manuscript was wanting. After a slight delay the agent found it, and laying it before the Marquis, he casually observed, "If I had not found the paper, Fidele would have relieved us of the difficulty; he is so intelligent a dog, he finds anything that is lost." Upon this he paces round the chamber, conceals his portfolio beneath the cushions of a sofa, and then returning to his seat, calls the dog, pretends to lament the loss of something valuable, and makes a gesture to Fidele to search for the missing article. The animal at once betakes himself to the task, as if he fully comprehended a glance of his master; he smells about the apartment, and presently drags the portfolio from its place of concealment.

The Marquis was highly amused; he called the dog,and disengaging the portfolio from his teeth, a letter drops from it. The superscription is in his own name. He opens it, and as he reads an indescribable agitation pervades his frame; his hand trembles, the blood forsakes his cheeks, and his strength scarcely suffices to ring the bell. A servant appears, and receives an order. In a few moments an exempt of the Police enters, and respectfully requires to know for what purpose he has been summoned.

"To arrest this villain," cries the Marquis, pointing to his agent; "and to affix your signature to the margin of this letter, which I have just received from his portfolio, and which I must request you to peruse."

The Marchioness having been apprised of some extraordinary discovery having been made, hastens to her husband. "Ah, beloved wife," he says to her, "God has had pity on our misery; the imposture is unveiled. Listen, it is Heaven itself that succours us." And he reads—

"Monseigneur,"I am on my death-bed, and at this awful moment, truth is a duty which I owe to you. You have been my benefactor; I have been reared in your household; you were bountiful to me on my marriage, and by you I was chosen to nurse your only child. Three years have passed since my husband, induced by some pernicious temptation, besought me to pass our son Pierrot as yours, but I have always refused to commit this crime. Nevertheless, I fear that after my death this guilty design will be persevered in. I therefore apprise you of the sure means of its detection. In his childhood Pierrot fell into the fire, and the accident has left visible marks on his legs and left arm. These scars will serve to show which is your son and which the impostor, in case they should attempt to deceive you on the subject. Your son has not the slightest mark of a burn on any part of his frame. All our neighbours are aware of the accident having occurred to my child. I confide this letter to Romain, my brother, and have enjoined him to deliver it to you. On receiving it, send for my husband, read it to him, and he will renounce his evil project. But for the love of God, and in the requital of the service I now render, pardon my unfortunate husband, and do not abandon my poor Pierrot, my own wretched son."I have the honor to be, &c., &c."Madeleine LadaillefemmeLesourd."Gonesse, May 22nd, 1712.

"Monseigneur,

"I am on my death-bed, and at this awful moment, truth is a duty which I owe to you. You have been my benefactor; I have been reared in your household; you were bountiful to me on my marriage, and by you I was chosen to nurse your only child. Three years have passed since my husband, induced by some pernicious temptation, besought me to pass our son Pierrot as yours, but I have always refused to commit this crime. Nevertheless, I fear that after my death this guilty design will be persevered in. I therefore apprise you of the sure means of its detection. In his childhood Pierrot fell into the fire, and the accident has left visible marks on his legs and left arm. These scars will serve to show which is your son and which the impostor, in case they should attempt to deceive you on the subject. Your son has not the slightest mark of a burn on any part of his frame. All our neighbours are aware of the accident having occurred to my child. I confide this letter to Romain, my brother, and have enjoined him to deliver it to you. On receiving it, send for my husband, read it to him, and he will renounce his evil project. But for the love of God, and in the requital of the service I now render, pardon my unfortunate husband, and do not abandon my poor Pierrot, my own wretched son.

"I have the honor to be, &c., &c."Madeleine LadaillefemmeLesourd."

Gonesse, May 22nd, 1712.

Beyond this letter there was nothing required to prove the fraud of Lesourd and his brother-in-law. The latter fell on his knees before the Marquis, beseeching mercy, and throwing on his brother-in-law all the odium of the infamous design in which, he said, the threats of Lesourd had compelled him to participate. Lesourd, when brought forward, wished to exculpate himself by attributing to Romain the entire plan and subsequent furtherance of the iniquitous affair. Thus, these two scoundrels aggravated still more their detestable guilt. They finished by declaring that the youthful Pierrot was their willing accomplice.

The police, by some inquiries, succeeded in demonstrating that the two brothers-in-law were equally willing to promote their nefarious scheme. Justice had some vindication. Lesourd and Romain were sent to the galleys, but the Marchioness interceded for Pierrot. Some money was given to him, and he went to America. There, this detestable fellow continued to call himself the Count de Coucy.

The spaniel Fidele became the cherished pet of the true count; Romain never could account how the letter of his sister, which he treasured carefully as the means of domineering over his nephew in case his attempt on the title of de Coucy should prove successful, had been taken from a casket in which he had placed it, as a most important possession; how it was transferred to the portfolio he could never conjecture. But the police received, in the course of their investigations, some statements from which they were led to believe that Romain was occasionally a somnambulist.

Dumas, in the construction of the plots of some of his novels, seems to have availed himself of facts derived from the Police Memoirs, over which, however, he spreads a very ample drapery of fiction. In "The Three Musketeers" he ascribed to a Gascon gentleman, d'Artagnan, aclearness of perception, a promptitude of action, and a personal intrepidity which were really exhibited by one who was born much nearer to the Shannon than to the Garonne, and who was a confidential attendant in the household of the Duke of Buckingham, and is mentioned by Bois-Robert, one of Richelieu's spies, in the following terms:—

"I shall first state to his Eminence, that chance having enabled me again to meet an Irishman whom I had known in Paris, when he was pursuing his studies; I then rendered him some service, and he, from that moment, manifested to me the most ardent gratitude. On leaving Paris, he proceeded to England, where, very luckily, he became the valet-de-chambre of his grace the Duke of Buckingham. Although the emoluments of that situation must be considerable, Patrick O'Reilly (which is the name of this Irishman) is always without a halfpenny. In this respect he imitates his noble master. I have received him kindly whenever he came to see me; and such is my zeal in the service of Monseigneur, that I have submitted to associate with this valet, hoping to obtain some useful information respecting his master. It was also for this purpose that I advanced him some money."

Dumas does not entirely ignore the name of Patrick O'Reilly, but he gives it to a jeweller, whom he mentions as the wealthiest and most skilful of all then following that trade in London. In his novel of the Count of Monte Cristo, he introduces the hero as the chief officer of a fine merchant ship. It would have been more true, though perhaps rather vulgar, to have presented to his readers, a shoemaker, of the description called chamber masters, whose name was François Picaud, and who, through motives of jealousy or envy, was represented to Savary, duc de Rovigo, as an agent or spy for the English and the royalists of La Vendee. He was imprisoned, his intended marriage having been prevented by his arrest, and continued incarcerated at Fenestrelle from 1807 to 1814. In the prison he was appropriated as a personal attendant to a Milanese ecclesiastic, of high rank, whodied in January, 1814, having confided to Picaud full information as to his immense property, and the places where the documents necessary to it were to be found. He also gave him a brief testamentary grant of all he possessed or was entitled to. There was a very great value accruing to the legatee in diamonds and hidden coin, but that treasure was in the vicinity of Milan, and the statements respecting the Chateau d'If, and the island of Monte Cristo, were complete fictions.

As to the last novel to which I have adverted, I am tempted into finding very great fault with one of its incidents, which appears most unnatural, and therefore most improbable. I refer to the scene between the ruined merchant and his son, in which a father acknowledges his intention to commit suicide, and ultimately persuades his son to acquiesce in such a crime; nay, even to use to his parent, with the pistols lying before him prepared for the catastrophe, the expression, "Die in peace, my father, I will live." This is, I repeat, unnatural and improbable. The English are said to be a suicidal people, amongst whom a November day produces throat-cutting, pistoling, and poisoning; but in England was there ever an instance of suicide being the subject of consultation between parent and child? Oh! never; nor do we believe that such could appear to our continental neighbours more consistent with the state and feelings of society amongst them than it is amongst ourselves.

I may mention, in reference to suicidal attempts, that I witnessed what I at first considered a dreadful attempt on the part of a Frenchman to terminate his existence before some hundreds of spectators, and in the immediate presence of a handsome young woman whose frigid indifference to his ardent passion for her he loudly declared had rendered his life insupportable. It was during my visit to Paris in 1853, and occurred on a Sunday, in the grounds adjoining the palace of St. Cloud, where there werenumerous tables occupied fully by parties enjoying the viands and wine, beer, or coffee, procured from two restaurants, which were also well supplied with the choicest confections. The demented lover, who was very well-looking, and seemed to be about five and twenty years of age, declared, unless Mademoiselle would agree to marry him in the ensuing week, he was determined to die there, and shed his blood at her feet. She appeared worse than indifferent to his entreaties and to the fatal intentions which he expressed, for she laughed most heartlessly at his expressions of hopeless despair. Leaving the table, he threw an overcoat across his arm, and hurried to one of the restaurants, from which he very quickly returned, and made a final demand that Mademoiselle should decide his fate. She continued inexorable, and I felt great surprise that none of those who heard him interfered either by expostulation or actual restraint. With frantic gesticulations he drew a pocket-pistol from under the folds of his overcoat, and thrust it into his mouth. It produced, however, no explosion. The pistol gave way between his closing teeth, and the barrel was soon lodged in his stomach. The apparently deadly weapon was made of chocolate, of which the obdurate damsel, still laughing, insisted on getting a portion.

I returned to Dublin in 1853, on the 10th of May, and had the pleasure of witnessing the opening of the Great Industrial Exhibition in Merrion Square on the 12th. It was a great success, and caused a very considerable influx of visitors to Dublin, not merely from other parts of theUnited Kingdom, but also from the continent of Europe, and even more distant regions. It is unnecessary to dilate on the beneficial tendency of such displays to awaken tastes and excite emulation in reference to artistic productions of beauty or utility, for it is almost universally acknowledged; but I am convinced that they produce very salutary effects by bringing each class of society into the view and under the observation of the others, approximating without confounding them, requiring no relinquishment of rank or undue familiarity. The building in which the exhibition was held was erected at the personal expense of William Dargan, and cost £26,000. A statue, on the pedestal of which "Dargan" is inscribed, now stands upon the scene of his patriotic liberality. No other inscription is requisite to have his generosity acknowledged and his memory revered by his countrymen. Previous to the opening in 1853, it was suggested in the public press and at the sittings of the committee, that as the inauguration of the English exhibition in 1851 had been accompanied by a prayer for the occasion, offered by a prelate of the highest rank, a similar course should be observed in Dublin. However, the opening here was not attended by any ecclesiastical demonstration, and some few of the spectators considered the omission culpable. At the close of the ceremony, three or four young men passed out at the same time that my brother magistrate, James Magee, and I were leaving. There was no indication as to the religious denomination to which they belonged, but we were greatly amused at the zealous and fervent piety of one who designated the omission of prayer, on such an occasion, as "a d——d shame."

The Dublin Exhibition of 1853 continued open until the end of October, and during that time there was only one charge brought for magisterial investigation from within its limits, and it was preferred before me. There was a portion of the building termed the "Medieval Court," and a man was accused of stealing, in that place, a coat belonging to a person employed on the premises. He confessed his guilt, and I awarded him two months'imprisonment with hard labor for the unlawful possession of the article. This solitary offence would, perhaps, have lapsed from my memory but for the total ignorance of the term "medieval" evinced by the parties concerned, for they all spoke of the transaction as having occurred in the "middle evil court."

It may appear almost incredible to some of my readers that, during the erection of the Exhibition building, and for upwards of five months in which it was resorted to by thousands, and I may add the comparatively short time subsequently occupied in taking down the structure and removing the materials, there was no other infraction of the law brought under magisterial cognizance than the petty larceny case which I have mentioned. I hope that I shall not be considered too discursive if I introduce here an extraordinary and very gratifying statement of an anterior date. The Great Southern and Western Railway of Ireland was opened to Carlow in 1846. The splendid terminus at the King's Bridge and several miles of the line are in the Dublin Metropolitan Police district. The works on that portion included very extensive buildings and deep excavations, and I have been credibly informed that they cost upwards of fifty thousand pounds. A vast number of persons were employed, comprising the various artisans, laborers, (commonly called navvies,) and drivers. I was in office during the entire time of their operations, and there was not even one complaint or charge preferred as arising amongst any class or between individuals. Mr. Dargan, the contractor, at a festive meeting jocularly congratulated me "on having a sinecure, as far as regarded the people at the King's Bridge, where there were no prosecutions required, except the prosecutions of the works." I regret that at the present time such very gratifying qualities could not be expected to a similar extent in similar undertakings. Intemperance has become too prevalent, especially amongst the operative portion of the community, to admit of large numbers being brought together daily, without occasional, or perhaps frequent quarrels.

There had been in 1852 a contested election for the city of Dublin, and the defeated party, as is usual on such occasions, attributed their failure to the use, on the part of their adversaries, of every unfair stratagem and corrupt inducement. At the commencement of the Session of Parliament in 1853, it was rumoured that a petition would be lodged to invalidate the return, especially on the grounds of extensive bribery amongst the freemen. It was alleged that a certain alderman was the confidential treasurer of the funds appropriated for the venal voters, and that a person namedBellhad been employed to procure the men and dispense the money. The alderman was one of my most intimate friends, and I frequently enjoyed his hospitality. I was also acquainted with several of the other party who were loud in their denunciations of the corruption of which Bell was alleged to have been the instrument. When I heard them speaking of the sums distributed amongst the freemen, I contented myself by affecting to lament the injustice to which I was individually subjected, that I was a freeman of my native city, and that I might have participated in the distribution to which they referred, were it not for an odious statutable enactment which prohibited a Dublin Police magistrate from exercising the franchise, and realizing its incidental advantages, whilst the English Metropolitan Magistrates were subjected to no such disqualification. One of my friends who happened to be the editor of a newspaper, remarked that I seemed disposed to treat the recent bribery with levity, and to regard it as mere fun, and I replied that he was not far wrong in his conjecture, and that I would advise him to adopt a similar course. He asked me to commit my ideas to writing and transmit them to him. I acceded to his request, and he published my communication; but I feel confident that neither publicly nor privately did he divulge the name of its author. No parliamentary petition was presented; and the bountifultreatment of the freemen was only noticed publicly in my poor production of—

THE MAGIC BELL,

My retrospection of that electionAccords perfection to the magic "Bell,"Whose notes so soothing were felt each booth inWhere freemen voted so prompt and well.That Bell so cheering, our hopes uprearing,As Green Street nearing we came to poll,Withnotespersuasive, soft and adhesive,And touch evasive of law's control.There are joy-bells swinging, and sweetly ringing,Their blithe sounds flinging from Christ Church highAnd Father Yore has erected moreOn the Liffey's shore to the Four Courts nigh.But more sublime than their varied chimeOf a festal time or a funeral knell,Was the Bell so soothing, felt every booth inWhere freemen voted so prompt and well.From the gifted Prout, we derive no doubt,Sweet strains about days of infancy,When "The bells of Shandon did sound so grand onThe pleasant waters of the River Lee."We may search in vain, we'll ne'er meet againWith a sweeter strain than Moore's "Evening Bell;"But a Bell more soothing was felt each booth inWhere freemen voted so prompt and well.The hermit lowly, whose thoughts are solelyOn subjects holy, delights to hear,When morn is shining or eve declining,Sweet peals combining, his soul to cheer.From far or near to his raptured earNo sound so dear ever reach'd his cellLike the Bell so soothing, felt every booth inWhere freemen voted so prompt and well.

My retrospection of that election

Accords perfection to the magic "Bell,"

Whose notes so soothing were felt each booth in

Where freemen voted so prompt and well.

That Bell so cheering, our hopes uprearing,

As Green Street nearing we came to poll,

Withnotespersuasive, soft and adhesive,

And touch evasive of law's control.

There are joy-bells swinging, and sweetly ringing,Their blithe sounds flinging from Christ Church highAnd Father Yore has erected moreOn the Liffey's shore to the Four Courts nigh.But more sublime than their varied chimeOf a festal time or a funeral knell,Was the Bell so soothing, felt every booth inWhere freemen voted so prompt and well.

There are joy-bells swinging, and sweetly ringing,

Their blithe sounds flinging from Christ Church high

And Father Yore has erected more

On the Liffey's shore to the Four Courts nigh.

But more sublime than their varied chime

Of a festal time or a funeral knell,

Was the Bell so soothing, felt every booth in

Where freemen voted so prompt and well.

From the gifted Prout, we derive no doubt,Sweet strains about days of infancy,When "The bells of Shandon did sound so grand onThe pleasant waters of the River Lee."We may search in vain, we'll ne'er meet againWith a sweeter strain than Moore's "Evening Bell;"But a Bell more soothing was felt each booth inWhere freemen voted so prompt and well.

From the gifted Prout, we derive no doubt,

Sweet strains about days of infancy,

When "The bells of Shandon did sound so grand on

The pleasant waters of the River Lee."

We may search in vain, we'll ne'er meet again

With a sweeter strain than Moore's "Evening Bell;"

But a Bell more soothing was felt each booth in

Where freemen voted so prompt and well.

The hermit lowly, whose thoughts are solelyOn subjects holy, delights to hear,When morn is shining or eve declining,Sweet peals combining, his soul to cheer.From far or near to his raptured earNo sound so dear ever reach'd his cellLike the Bell so soothing, felt every booth inWhere freemen voted so prompt and well.

The hermit lowly, whose thoughts are solely

On subjects holy, delights to hear,

When morn is shining or eve declining,

Sweet peals combining, his soul to cheer.

From far or near to his raptured ear

No sound so dear ever reach'd his cell

Like the Bell so soothing, felt every booth in

Where freemen voted so prompt and well.

In a few days after the publication of the foregoing lines, I dined at his residence near Salthill, with my friend the alderman, and in the course of the evening he mentioned that Bell was greatly annoyed by such a production, and that he considered it libellous. I asked howcould he show that it applied to him. My worthy host said that it could not apply to any other person, and I then remarked that it was not malicious or of an injurious tendency, and that it had been written merely as an attempt at harmless fun. This elicited the question of how I knew in what spirit it had been written, to which I replied, that I had written it myself, intending to be jocose; and that if my verses were not considered worthy of laurel, they certainly did not deserve the application of birch. To this expression I received a contradiction unanimous but good-humored; and it was agreed that if the public whipping of a police magistrate could be effected, it would be an interesting novelty and a general gratification. There were two other aldermen present besides our host, and they repeatedly assured me, even when shaking hands at the conclusion of the entertainment, that they would provide some punishment for my transgression. On the following evening I was at the house of a friend on Merchant's Quay, and when I returned home, after midnight, I found that the knocker of my hall-door had disappeared. My servant stated that two gentlemen had called, one of whom expressed a wish to see me, and on being informed that I was not at home, said that he would write a note in my study and leave it for me. Whilst he was so employed, the other remained in the hall. At their departure the servant did not perceive that the knocker had been abstracted; but at my return I at once observed the loss, and opening the note, which was written in a hand manifestly disguised, I read the following communication:—

"Mr. Porter is so expert in the fabrication of a Bell, that he may confine himself to ringing without knocking."

Although I felt considerable annoyance at such an unwarrantable trespass whereby I lost a very handsome and expensive brass knocker, I did not indulge in resentful expressions or state the suspicions which I entertained. The door remained without a knocker, as if I intended toacquiesce in the suggestion of only using a bell. The door had not been injured or defaced, for the knocker had not been wrenched away, but had been unscrewed by the person who remained in the hall whilst the other was penning the note to me. I was repeatedly quizzed, and subjected to mock condolence, but I treated the matter as a practical joke, and ascribed the disappearance of my knocker to aldermanic influence. In about a fortnight I was invited to another dinner at Salthill, and met there the same parties who had been at the previous entertainment. Amongst the various pleasantries of the evening, my knocker was not forgotten, and my health was drank, accompanied by what I considered a bantering wish for the restitution of the brazen appendage to my hall-door. On my return home I was surprised to find the door furnished with a knocker, which I soon recognized as my own. It appeared that almost immediately after I had left home, a man came to my house, stating that I had ordered the article at Bryan's ironmongery warehouse in Bride Street, and he proceeded to fix it on. I have never since that time meddled with any "Bell," and my door has not been interfered with in any disagreeable manner.

About the end of 1853, I was for a few weeks engaged in magisterial duties at Kingstown, and on one occasion I observed the late Viscount Gough entering the police-court, and taking a seat in the part to which the public were indiscriminately admitted. There was some case pending, at the hearing of which he wished to be present, and I immediately requested his Lordship to honor me by occupying a seat beside me, adding that I could not consent to a person of his high rank and illustrious character remaining in any position inferior to my own. He declined my proposal, but consented to take a chair between the bench and the right-hand side of the court. His chair was rather close to the grate, which was full of fuel, only a few minutes previously kindled. The courtwas crowded, and soon became very warm, but his Lordship's proximity to the grate almost immediately compelled him to change his position. Apologizing for the interruption, he asked me to direct the office constable to remove his chair to the left side of the court, and to place it near a window. Acceding at once to the request of the noble, illustrious, and worthy old warrior, I ordered his seat to be moved to the place which he preferred, adding, that I hoped the gentlemen of the press would report the remarkable fact, that Lord Gough retreated from the fire of the police, although he never had shrank from any other fire, however hot it might have been. A member of his family told me, in a few days after, that his Lordship considered my observation as most complimentary and gratifying.

In the discharge of my magisterial duties at Kingstown, I had to dispose of a charge against a Roman Catholic clergyman named Pecherine, for publicly burning a copy of the Bible. The accused party was a foreigner, who had become a member of the order of Redemptorists, and joined a number of that community in holding "a mission" at Kingstown, in November, 1855.

He preached very frequently to numerous congregations, and excited great admiration and even surprise by the fluency of his language and correctness of diction. Finding that many books and tracts had been distributed, in Kingstown and its vicinity, containing doctrines or controversial arguments of which he and his religious associates disapproved, he exhorted his hearers to bring all such publications to him, and having received a considerable quantity, he burned them in a large fire lighted within the precincts of the church where the mission was held, and between the building and the exterior railing. It was alleged that amongst the articles thus consumed, there was a copy of the Scriptures. A prosecution was instituted before me, which was met by a denial that anyperfect copy of the Bible had been burned; and that if even a portion of one had been thus destroyed it was by mere mischance, and without his knowledge, intention, or approval. The proceedings before me produced intense excitement, and great manifestation, especially amongst the humbler classes, of the asperities usually incident to indications of religious differences. I sent the case for trial to the ensuing commission ofOyer et Terminerfor the County of Dublin, and the result was an acquittal; but I refer to the occasion as having produced some very striking instances of the most inconsiderate and rash violence, committed without any provocation whatever on the part of those assailed, and in the supposition that they had been concerned in a proceeding with which they were totally unconnected.

Previous to the investigation of the complaints preferred on summons and information, the custody cases were, as usual, disposed of, and I had nine prisoners brought before me for having been drunk on the public thoroughfare. Some had been quiet and submissive, and they were fined one shilling each. Others who had been noisy or disorderly had fines of half-a-crown or a crown inflicted. Amongst the former was a newsboy, of about nineteen years of age, who had only one hand. Having paid his fine, he was liberated, and passed out into Georges Street, where a crowd had collected to get the earliest intelligence as to the progress and result of Father Pecherine's case. When the newsboy appeared a girl in the crowd exclaimed, "There's the horrid villain that is just after swearing against the priest." Immediately he was seized, violently beaten, and dashed through a large plate-glass window in the front of a shop. Some police constables were close at hand, and saw the sudden attack on the poor lad. They rushed forward and arrested four men who had been prominent in assaulting the newsboy, and one of themwas fully identified as the person who had first laid hands on him and incited the others. I do not recollect the names of the delinquents, nor is it material to the narrative that I should, but when I asked if they had any defence, or if they wished to make any statement, the ringleader addressed me to the following effect—

"I thought, your worship, that he was after swearing against the priest, or I wouldn't have laid a finger on him. It was all a mistake, and we never intended to break the shop window. Indeed he broke that himself trying to get away. Moreover, if what was done was wrong, I have been well punished for it already."

I immediately designated the excuse alleged by the prisoner as an aggravation of his offence, for if the person attacked had been a witness, the violence used towards him tended to defeat public justice, and to substitute might for right, making anarchy predominant. I added that I did not understand the allegation of the prisoner, that he had been already punished for his gross misconduct, and I wished him to explain.

"Your worship," he replied, "I am a carpenter, and I was going to buy some timber for repairs to a house at Sandycove. I had two sovereigns and a half in a little leather purse in my waistcoat pocket. As soon as I was brought into the police-station, I missed the money, and I have no doubt but my pockets were picked in the crowd, and during the confusion."

Wishing to take a short interval for considering whether I should adjudicate summarily, or send the case for trial at the Quarter Sessions, I postponed it for a week, urging the police to detect, if possible, the girl who had caused the tumult and assault, and I allowed the prisoners to be discharged from custody on giving ample bail for their re-appearance, and proceeded to take the evidence adduced on the summons against the priest. When the business of the day was nearly concluded, two women were brought in, having been taken in the act of assaulting a young woman at the market, which, at the time, was rather crowded. The violence inflicted was very severe,and it appeared that as the injured party was approaching the place where the others were standing, a girl, described as being about twenty years of age, explained, "Here she comes, the —— —— that has been swearing Father Pecherine's life away." Immediately a scene similar to the one in the morning was acted by female performers, the foremost being a large powerful woman, the wife of a publican in a neighbouring village. The supposed witness had been struck, kicked, and scratched; her hair pulled, and her clothes torn, and the similarity of the two zealous manifestations was fully evinced by the publican's wife, declaring that "she thought" the suffering party had been swearing against the priest, and she bitterly deplored the loss of three pounds of which her pocket had been picked in the "scrimmage." Two other women were subsequently arrested whothoughttoo hastily and acted too violently, but the inciter had managed to elude detection, and it was believed that immediately after her second exploit, she had hurried off to the railway and gone up to Dublin with her booty. I dealt summarily with the female prisoners, as the young woman whom they attacked was obliged to leave immediately for Manchester, where she had procured some engagement as a domestic. I indicted the very trifling penalty of sixpence on each delinquent for the assault, but supplemented each conviction with two pounds costs to the party assailed. This decision, in reference to the costs, was extremely repugnant to the feelings of those against whom it was awarded. It was at once pronounced to be hard, and they declared their total inability to pay so much for a "little mistake," and their disapproval of my judgment was greatly augmented by the alternative which was left to their option of two months' imprisonment with hard labor.

The fines and costs were almost immediately paid, and I believe they were defrayed by a subscription. On the newsboy's case being resumed, he declined all further prosecution, and declared that he had been sufficiently remunerated. The girl who had incited the attacks wasdetected in the act of picking a pocket in a place of worship at Kingstown, about a fortnight after the occurrence which I have detailed. She was not brought before me, but having been committed for trial by Mr. Wyse, her delinquencies procured her "a complete retirement from business" for seven years. She was not an un-thrifty thief, for it appeared at her trial that a savings' bank book was found on searching her lodgings, in which £37 were entered to her credit. It occurs to me that the name of this culprit was Catherine Gaffney. Dishonesty is very seldom associated with frugality. I have heard, during my magisterial experience, of only two instances of the union of such tendencies. I have already mentioned one. The other was a man named John Donohoe, a shop porter in the employment of the late Alderman Butler, in Christ Church Place. He was convicted, in February, 1853, of five distinct larcenies on his master's premises; and whilst he was robbing on every possible opportunity, he had £64 in a savings' bank.

At the commencement of the Crimean War, the militia regiments of the United Kingdom were embodied. The City of Dublin Light Infantry and Artillery and the County regiment were almost entirely raised in the metropolitan district. Recruiting for the line was also very briskly pursued here, and I can safely and deliberately state, that the military enrolments relieved our district of a great number of loose characters, whose abstraction was very salutary to our community. When the city militia became sufficiently strong for active service, they were embarked at Kingstown for Liverpool in a large steamer. I was on the jetty, and I do not think the English language could supply any opprobrious term that was not loudly ventilated in reference to me. The copious application of every variety of invective was really amusing to me, and it was only noticed by a frequent smile or an occasional laugh. It was remarked by one, that "if thed——l didn't take owld Porter, we might as well be without a d——l at all;" but another expressed his opinion, "that the d——l was in no hurry to grip the owld rascal, as he was certain to get him at last." I am sure, however, that if another police magistrate had been also present, he would have been considered fully entitled to participate equally in the compliments which I monopolized, and which I only notice in the hope that some remarks which I intend to submit to my readers in a subsequent page may be considered interesting, and perhaps, I may add, important.

An infantry regiment of the line was embarked at Kingstown in a very capacious steamer, I believe the Medusa, for Gibraltar or Malta. There was a large quantity of baggage which the men were actively engaged in conveying on board and stowing away. I was sauntering on the jetty when, at one o'clock, they were directed "to knock off for dinner." The meal was served on deck, and consisted of soup, bread, and meat, and the recipients availed themselves of every position in which they could speedily enjoy their repast. The circular seat around the window on the quarter-deck was fully occupied. The soup was brought up in large tin basins, and the bread was amply supplied, ready cut, from wicker baskets. One of the men who occupied the circular seat, seeing a basket of bread placed almost within his reach, stood up, advanced about a yard, and having procured what he required, stepped backward to resume his place. Meanwhile, one of the attendants had placed a large vessel of soup on the portion of the bench apparently vacant, and the soldier sat down in it. With a loud scream, indicative of acute pain, he rushed to the tafferel, and plunged into the sea. He was immediately rescued from the risk of drowning, and having been brought on board, was sent below for medical treatment, and to get his wet clothes changed. I saw him on deck in the course of theafternoon, and he stated that he was suffering very little, and that he would be "all right" very soon. Unless the temperature of the soup was below scalding heat, the instantaneous application of the cold water, although of a saline character, must have been extremely efficacious.

A large ship was quartered to convey the head-quarters of the 11th hussars from Kingstown to Balaklava. A considerable number of horses were embarked, and there were slings fastened to the roof and passing under each animal's body, which supported him whilst sleeping, but without allowing him to lie down. All arrangements for sailing had been completed. A steamer was provided to tow the vessel to the outside of the Kish Bank, and the wind was as favorable as possible for proceeding down the Channel. The captain announced, about ten o'clock, a.m., that he would leave at noon, whereupon three of his crew asked him to defer his departure until the next day, and to allow them to spend the intermediate time ashore. On his refusal, they required him to hoist a signal, which, to the best of my recollection, wasa blue shirt, at the foretop, and he complied with their demand, inasmuch as, according to his statement to me, his refusal would subject him to most severe penal consequences. The signal denoted that there were persons on board willing to serve in the Royal Navy; and as soon as it was displayed, a lieutenant who was stationed at Kingstown, on the duty of naval recruiting, went on board, and was informed by the three sailors that they were desirous of joining his service. He acceded to their application, and the captain found himself unable to put to sea for want of sufficient hands, and without any expectation of being able to supply the deficiency for some days. In this emergency, he applied to me to have the men treated as wilful absconders, and to send them back to the ship. I had a communication with the lieutenant, whose name, I think, was Henderson; and whilst he fully admitted the hardship ofwhich the captain complained, he declared that his orders were so stringently imperative that he could exercise no discretion, and had no alternative course to adopt. I observed that by retaining the men there would be a serious injury inflicted by one department of the public service on another, and that it amounted to military exertion being paralyzed by naval interference. He agreed with me as to the injurious effect of having the ship detained, but declared that he was unable to prevent it. I said that under the circumstances, I was inclined to have the men taken and sent back to the vessel from which they had virtually absconded. To this he replied, that he would offer no resistance to the execution of any warrant or order that I might issue, but that he would report the proceeding to the Admiralty. Thereupon, I suggested to the captain to have the ship taken from alongside the jetty to the centre of the harbour, and to stop any further communication with the shore. This was immediately done, and I then sent a warrant for the seamen, and had them conveyed on board, having previously advised them to go of their own accord, which they declined doing, with the intimation that if they ever returned to Ireland, they would smash every bone in my body, even if they were to be hanged the next minute for killing such a d——d old scoundrel. When they arrived at the ship, they told the captain that they would not do any duty, to which he replied that, whilst they refused to work, they need not expect to get any rations. The rest of the crew disapproved of their conduct, and I believe that they soon became reconciled to a resumption of duty. The lieutenant informed me, in a few days after the transaction, that he had fully reported the circumstances to the Admiralty, and that they approved of the course I had adopted, and exonerated him from any censure. I was subsequently informed by him, that on the arrival of the ship at Balaklava, she was boarded by a party from the flag-ship, and the officer in command produced the documents incident to the enlistment of the three men at Kingstown, and claimed them as belonging to thenaval service. They had, however, the advantage of being allowed their pay, as seamen in the Queen's service, from the date of their enrolment at Kingstown, and they also had their wages from the vessel in which they had been employed during the voyage to the Crimea. None of them have returned as yet to realize their fearful intention on him whom they designated "a d——d old scoundrel;" and he never entertained the slightest apprehensions of any violent commentary on the course he adopted towards them.

In one of the preceding pages I stated that "the military enrolments relieved our district of a great number of loose characters, whose abstraction was very salutary to our community." I subsequently expressed an intention to submit to my readers "some remarks that might be considered interesting, and perhaps important."

It is unnecessary to particularise the numerous varieties of objectionable tendencies and habits, any of which will be considered sufficient to constitute the person exhibiting them "an undoubted scamp." In Dublin and its suburban districts, society has never been free from the evils incident to the existence of such disreputable characters; but I fully believe that we are not more tainted by them than any other part of the United Kingdom of equal extent and population. The three regiments of militia embodied at the commencement of the Crimean war relieved us of some hundreds of loose, disorderly, or dishonest fellows, the riddance of whom produced a very desirable decrease in the custody cases of our police-courts.However, at the termination of the war, those regiments were brought back, and disembodied in the locality where they had been raised; and many persons might reasonably expect very disagreeable and injurious results from the return of those whose departure was regarded as a happy riddance by the community from which they had been abstracted. But very few instances occurred of the discharged militia-men relapsing into disreputable habits and criminal practices. Military service had produced a great and most desirable reformatory effect. Supervision, strict without unnecessary severity, with the adjuncts of regular and wholesome diet, comfortable clothing and personal cleanliness, emulation in the efficient discharge of duty, and the incitements arising from the preference accorded in various minor appointments and employments to the well-conducted soldier—all these, together with a change from the scene of previous improprieties and disreputable associations, strongly tended to generate a desire for improvement, and the acquisition of a new character. Similar results were observable in reference to the last enrolment and subsequent disembodiment of those regiments consequent on the outbreak and suppression of the Indian mutiny. I wrote to the late Lord Herbert of Lea, then Mr. Sydney Herbert, and Secretary of State for War, in reference to the reformatory results, which I attributed to military influence. He read my letter in the House of Commons when moving the army estimates, and excited much laughter by stating that he did not think it expedient to mention the name of the writer or the regiments to which the communication referred.

My eldest son was a lieutenant in the County of Dublin Militia, which, soon after being embodied, was stationed at Waterford. One morning he was crossing the barrack yard from his quarters, to serve on a regimental court-martial, before which some disorderly or insubordinate characters were to be brought, when he was accosted by the wife of one of the delinquents. She earnestly besought him not to be very severe on "poor Larry," and that it would bea hardship if he got worse treatment in Waterford than he'd get in Dublin for a little spree. She added, "The owld gentleman, your father, long life to him, never put the poor fellow up for more than a week at a time."

During the period of my magisterial duty, I almost invariably discharged the afternoon business, by an arrangement with my colleagues, which tended to their convenience and mine. The attestations of recruits were very seldom taken in the morning, and consequently they were generally made before me. At the commencement of the Crimean war, recruiting was very rife, and I was frequently appealed to by the recruit as to the particular place in which the regiment for which he was enlisted was stationed, inasmuch as he had bargained to be sent "where the fighting was going on." This desire could not be attributed to any excitement arising from sudden caprice or whim, or from indulgence in liquor, for the attestation was never administered until twenty-four hours had elapsed after enlisting, and unless the recruit appeared perfectly sober, and aware of the responsibility which, with his own free will, he was required to assume.

There was a man named Roger Tobin, who lived somewhere about the classic locality of Stoneybatter. He appeared to be about twenty-five years of age, tall, strong, intelligent, healthy, and handsome. There were at least a dozen public-houses which the recruiting sergeants frequently visited at the time of the Crimean campaign, being then in quest of the martial spirits to whom pay, booty, promotion, and military glory were promised as certain acquisitions, all considerations of danger or death being left unmentioned and ignored as improbable or impossible. Roger would enter one of these houses, having previously ascertained that the sergeant had not yet arrived, and he would locate himself in a chair or on a bench close to a table, and order some moderate refreshment. He manifested an intense anxiety as to the mostrecent news from the seat of war, and generally succeeded in making the proceedings of our army the subject of conversation amongst the persons present. When the collector of future heroes appeared, he was sure to be greeted by Roger with the warmest wishes for his success in providing gallant hearts and strong hands to repel the encroachments of Russia. The poor Poles would be commiserated, and our brave French allies eulogized. Every topic calculated to excite martial feelings would be adverted to by the enthusiastic Roger. Such expressions would naturally lead the sergeant to conclude that he might calculate on one recruit accompanying him back to barracks, and his request or suggestion of immediate enlistment met with a ready acquiescence. The magic shilling having been paid, the new recruit would spend it in an additional libation, and address an earnest exhortation to any young fellows then present to follow his example. The sergeant would not be slow in giving a further advance, the application of which to convivial purposes might procure him two or three additional adherents. Ten shillings, or perhaps more, having been joyously spent, Roger was informed that he was to accompany the sergeant, and any others who had joined, and receive accommodation in the barrack, from whence he would be brought next day to the police-court for attestation. Promptly acceding to this direction, and raising his fine manly figure, he left the table, and enabled the disgusted sergeant to perceive that his recruit was clubfooted, and totally incapable of ever being put in marching order. How the expenses incurred were afterwards liquidated, whether the sergeant was the loser, or the liability devolved on the recruiting department, I am unable to state, but I fully believe that Roger repeated the same trick on many occasions. It would seem that each sergeant did not wish to be the last victim, and consequently none of them disclosed the deception to the new comers, or to those in other parts of the metropolitan district. Roger's game was spoiled by a warning communicated to the recruiting stations from the police.

When the Richmond Barracks were built at Golden Bridge, they were intended to afford ample accommodation for more than an entire regiment. There were also barracks at Island Bridge, and the distance between both was about half a mile. The former were generally occupied by infantry, and the latter by artillery. A person in the vicinity had a large building constructed through a speculative motive of a very extraordinary kind. He was aware that soldiers marrying without leave, or whose wives were dishonest, turbulent, quarrelsome, slovenly, or habitually intemperate, were not allowed to bring such objectionable characters into the regimental quarters. He consequently calculated that he would find no difficulty in having his premises occupied by tenants, to whose habits and morals he attached no importance, provided they paid the rent, and his expectations were not disappointed. His apartments were no sooner vacated by the incorrigible termagants of one regiment, than a succession of vixens, was supplied from another to fill the unedifying edifice. The proprietor had not appropriated any particular name to the building, but it became speedily known in the district under the designation of "The She Barracks." In the southern division of the police districts, there were five extensive military barracks, and I can unhesitatingly declare, that the cases supplied for police intervention or magisterial decision from them all, were completely outnumbered by those derived from the comparatively diminutive limits of the structure designed for the use and associated with the name of the softer sex. The details of the various charges and summonses in which inmates of these premises were compromised, would neither be instructive nor amusing, but I cannot ever forget a case in which two women, the wives of artillerymen, appeared, on summons and cross-summons, to swear against each other to the greatest extent of culpability. Each of them imputed to her adversary the inclination and avowed intention to commit every offence of a violentor malicious description, and neither came unprovided with witnesses ready to surmount the most elevated pinnacles of exaggeration. Whilst this auction of swearing was in progress, the husbands of the two inmates of the She Barracks were seated together, quietly listening to the proceedings, apparently on very friendly terms with each other, and not evincing any anxiety for the success of their respective consorts. At the close, I directed the informations of the parties to be engrossed, and stated that I would commit both for a month, unless they respectively found a surety in five pounds for their future good behaviour. I added, that as they were strangers, I did not suppose they could easily find bail amongst their neighbours, and that I was satisfied to take the husband of each as a surety for his wife. Immediately I was addressed by one of the artillerymen to the following purport:—

"May it please your honor, I'm only a private soldier, and where would I get five pounds in a day or two, when they begin again. Besides, if I was a fit bail, I would sooner be bound for his wife's behaviour than for my own wife's. 'Tis best to let them go." Then turning to his comrade, he added, "Come, Sam, we're likely to have a quiet month while they're both up."

Nevertheless, he was disappointed, for the two viragoes, acting on the suggestion of an attorney who had been engaged in the case, came almost immediately to terms, and neither of them would make an information. They were consequently liberated, and instead of having a quiet month, I am sure that the artillery men had, during that time, to undergo some heavy domestic bombardments.

The regular military establishments in our district produced very few cases for decision by the civil authorities. I am not able to state the exact strength of the Dublin garrison, but I believe that it is the largest in the United Kingdom, and that the seven barracks never contain less than five thousand men of all ranks and arms. Since thecommencement of the present century, this city has had quartered within its limits or immediate suburbs every regular regiment in the service, and large bodies of militia. In 1813, a private dragoon named Tuite deserted, and on a Sunday morning stopped a gentleman named Goulding on South Circular Road, near Portobello, for the purpose of robbing him. The offence had a fatal conclusion, for Goulding was shot through the heart, and the murderer was apprehended and executed. After his conviction he acknowledged his guilt, but declared that he intended only to rob, and that the discharge of the pistol was occasioned by his trepidation. In 1818, a corporal named Alliard was indicted for murdering a woman named Flood, in a cellar in Thomas Street, and he was acquitted. These two cases constituted all the capital charges preferred against soldiers before civil tribunals in our district from 1800 to the present time. During my magistrature of upwards of twenty years' duration, I had to send two private soldiers for trial on a charge of passing base coin, and one of them was convicted. I had no cognizance or knowledge of offences purely military as to their nature or number. Whenever a soldier was found on a public thoroughfare in a state of intoxication, he was taken by the police, and when sober, sent by magisterial order to the officer commanding at his quarters; but the number of such captures was very inconsiderable. Indeed if the entire population of the district had been strictly similar to the military in their habits and conduct, my office would have been almost a sinecure.

There was an affair brought under my cognizance about seven years previous to my retirement, of which I have a perfect recollection, and in which, I am free to confess, I busied myself beyond my magisterial duties for mere amusement. An artillery soldier strolled into town from his barracks at Portobello, and having indulged freely in liquor, betook himself to a house in Bow Lane, off MercerStreet, about ten o'clock at night. He was unable to return to his quarters, and having been undressed, was placed in bed to sleep off his intoxication. The inmates of the house were by no means of a reputable description, and amongst them was a female unusually tall in stature, and with proportional amplitude of figure. In a sudden whim, she arrayed herself in the uniform of the sleeping soldier, and set out on a nocturnal promenade, to the infinite amusement of her associates, by some of whom she was accompanied. Their obstreperous merriment attracted the attention of the police, and eventuated in the arrest of the amazon. On my arrival at the police-court on the following morning, I was apprised of the extraordinary charge which awaited my investigation; and I immediately communicated with a gentleman with whom I was personally acquainted, and who was in a high position connected with the Ordnance Office. He came to me, and we arranged that I should not dispose of the case in the police-court until the circumstances were made known to the military authorities at Portobello. When the woman was brought before me, I directed a sergeant of police to take her in a covered vehicle to the barrack, and, in the meantime, the artillery man was captured in Bow Lane by a party sent from the barracks, and as his own attire was not forthcoming, he was brought away in a cab, and with habiliments not altogether suitable to his sex or his station. The heroine was submitted to some of the women, who divested her of the martial appearance she had assumed, and transferred the garments to two non-commissioned officers, who gave in return the clothes or improvised vestments that covered the soldier during his return to barracks. I did not inflict any further punishment on the woman, and I believe that the artillery man was not severely treated: but I was informed by some of his officers that he was made the object of the most persistent banter and ridicule amongst his comrades, who accorded him the soubriquet of "Mary Anne." I believe, indeed, that severe corporal punishment inflicted on his delinquency would not have deterred the other soldiers from thecommission of a similar error so effectually as the jests and sarcasms supplied from amongst themselves, and suggested by the appearance of one who had returned from his roving so very unsuitably.

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