Such was the man whom the myrmidons of the law placed in the dock of Green-street court-house, when on January 5th, 1866, after the return of the judges from Cork, the Commission was re-opened in Dublin.  His appearance was somewhat peculiar.  He was a tall, strong, rough-bearded man, with that strained expression of face which is often worn by people of dim sight.  Around his neck he wore an india-rubber tube, or ear trumpet, through which any words that were necessary to be addressed to him were shouted into his ear by some of his friends, or by his solicitor.  His trial did not occupy much time, for on the refusal of the crown lawyers and judges to produce the convict Thomas Clarke Luby, whom he conceived to be a material witness for his defence, he directed his lawyers to abandon the case, and contented himself with reading to the court some remarks on the evidence which had been offered against him.  The chief feature in this address was his denial of all knowledge of the “executive document.”  He had never seen or heard of it until it turned up in connexion with those trials.  Referring to one of the articles with the authorship of which he was charged, he said he wondered how any Irishman, taking into consideration what had occurred in Ireland during the last eighty-four years, could hesitate to say to the enemy—­“Give us our country to ourselves and let us see what we can do with it.”  Alluding to a report that the government contemplated making some concession to the claims of the Catholic bishops, he remarked that concessions to Ireland had always been a result of Fenianism in one shape or another, and that he believed the present manifestation of the national spirit would have weight, as former ones had, with the rulers of the country.  As regards the landed class in Ireland, the Irish People, he contended, had said nothing more than was said by Thomas Davis, whose works every one admired.  That eminent Irishman, afflicted and stung to the heart by witnessing the system of depopulation which was going on throughout the country, had written these words:—­

   “God of Justice, I sighed, send your Spirit down
     On those lords so cruel and proud,
   And soften their hearts, and relax their frown,
     Or else, I cried aloud,
   Vouchsafe Thy strength to the peasant’s hand
   To drive them at length from out the land.”

He had not gone farther than the writer of these lines, and now, he said, they might send him to a felon’s doom if they liked.

And they did send him to it.  Judge Keogh, before passing sentence, asked him if he had any further remarks to make in reference to his case.  Mr. Kickham briefly replied:—­

   “I believe, my lords, I have said enough already.  I will only add
   that I am convicted for doing nothing but my duty.  I have endeavoured
   to serve Ireland, and now I am prepared to suffer for Ireland.”

Then the judge, with many expressions of sympathy for the prisoner, and many compliments in reference to his intellectual attainments, sentenced him to kept in penal servitude for fourteen years.  His solicitor, Mr. John Lawless, announced the fact to him through his ear trumpet.  Charles J. Kickham bowed to the judges, and with an expression of perfect tranquility on his features, went into captivity.