By this time several parties of police had arrived in the street and stationed themselves so as to prevent the formation of a crowd and deter the people from any attempt at rescue.  A reinforcement having turned into the house in which the struggle was going on, Captain Mackay and others who had been in his company were made prisoners, and marched off in custody.

Some days afterwards, the wounded constable, who had refused to submit to amputation of the wounded limb, died in hospital.

On the 10th of March, 1868, at the Cork Assizes, Judge O’Hagan presiding, Captain Mackay was put on his trial for murder.  The evidence established a probability that the discharge of the prisoner’s revolver was not intended or effected by him, but was a consequence of its having been struck by the revolver of the policeman who was struggling with him.  The verdict of the jury therefore was one of acquittal.

But then came the other charge against him, the charge of treason-felony, for his connexion with the Fenian Brotherhood, and his part in the recent “rising.”  For this he was put on trial on the 20th day of March.  He was ably defended by Mr. Heron, Q.C.; but the evidence against him was conclusive.  To say nothing of the testimony of the informers, which should never for a moment be regarded as trustworthy, there was the evidence and the identification supplied by the gunners of the Martello tower and their wives, and the policemen of Ballyknockane station and the wife of one of them.  This evidence while establishing the fact that the prisoner had been concerned in the levying of war against the crown, established also the fact that he was a man as chivalrous and gentle as he was valorous and daring.  Some of the incidents proved to have occurred during the attack which was made, under his leadership, on the police barrack, are worthy of special mention in any sketch, however brief, of the life and adventures of this remarkable man.  After he, at the head of his party, had demanded the surrender of the barrack in the name of the Irish Republic, the police fired, and the fire was returned.  Then the insurgents broke in the door and set fire to the lower part of the barrack.  Still the police held out.  “Surrender!” cried the insurgents; “You want to commit suicide, but we don’t want to commit murder.” One of the policemen then cried out that a little girl, his daughter, was inside, and asked if the attacking party would allow her to be passed out?  Of course they would, gladly; and the little girl was taken out of the window with all tenderness, and given up to her mother who had chanced to be outside the barrack when the attack commenced.  At this time a Catholic clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Neville, came on the spot.  He asked the insurgent leader whether, if the police surrendered, any harm would be done to them?  “Here is my revolver,” said Captain Mackay, “let the contents of it be put through me if one of them should be injured.”  Well did Mr. Heron in his able speech, referring to these facts, say, “Though they were rebels who acted that heroic part, who could say their hearts, were not animated with the courage of Leonidas, and the chivalry of Bayard.”