exaggerate upon Mr. Barry’s original statement.
Now, with respect to those charges—in
justice to my character—I must say that
in this court, there is not a man more incapable
of anything like massacre or assassination than
I am. I really believe that the gentlemen who
have shown so much ability in persecuting me, in
the bottom of their hearts believe me incapable
of an act of assassination or massacre. I don’t
see that there is the smallest amount of evidence to
show that I ever entertained the notion of a massacre
of landlords and priests. I forget whether
the advisers of the crown said I intended the massacre
of the Protestant clergymen. Some of the writers
of our enlightened press said that I did.
Now, with respect to the charge of assassinating
the landlords, the only thing that gives even the
shadow of a colour to that charge is the letter
signed—alleged to be signed—by
Mr. O’Keefe. Now, assuming—but
by no means admitting, of course—that
the letter was written by Mr. O’Keefe, let me
make a statement about it. I know the facts
that I am about to state are of no practical utility
to me now, at least with respect to the judges.
I know it is of no practical utility to me, because
I cannot give evidence on my own behalf, but it
may be of practical utility to others with whom
I wish to stand well. I believe my words will
carry conviction—and carry much more
conviction than any words of the legal advisers
of the crown can—to more than 300,000 of
the Irish race in Ireland, England, and America.
Well, I deny absolutely, that I ever entertained
any idea of assassinating the landlords, and the letter
of Mr. O’Keefe—assuming it to be his
letter—is the only evidence on the subject.
My acquaintance with Mr. O’Keefe was of the
slightest nature. I did not even know of his
existence when the Irish People was started.
He came, after that paper was established a few
months, to the office, and offered some articles—some
were rejected, some we inserted, and I call the
attention of the legal advisers of the Crown to
this fact, that amongst the papers which they got,
those that were Mr. O’Keefe’s articles
had many paragraphs scored out; in fact we put
in no article of his without a great deal of what
is technically called ‘cutting down.’
Now, that letter of his to me was simply a private
document. It contained the mere private views
of the writer; and I pledge this to the court as a
man of honour—and I believe in spite
of the position in which I stand, amongst my countrymen
I am believed to be a man of honour, and that if
my life depended on it, I would not speak falsely about
the thing—when I read that letter, and
the first to whom I gave it was my wife, I remember
we read it with fits of laughter at its ridiculous
ideas. My wife at the moment said—’Had
I not better burn the letter?’ ‘Oh
no,’ I said, looking upon it as a most ridiculous
thing, and never dreaming for a moment that such
a document would ever turn up against me, and produce