THE RISING OF 1867—­ARREST AND RESCUE OF KELLY AND DEASY—­THE MANCHESTER MARTYRDOM.

Although the Rising of 1867 had somewhat the character of “a flash in the pan,” there were some heroic incidents in connexion with it.  With one of the Fenian leaders, James Francis Xavier O’Brien, I was brought into intimate connection many years after the Rising, when we were both officials, he as General Secretary and I as Chief Organiser, of the Home Rule organisation in Great Britain.  When put upon his trial there was evidence against him in connection with the taking of a police barrack, he being in command of the insurgents.  It was proved that he not only acted with courage, but with a humanity that was commended by the judge, in seeing that the women and children were got out safely before the place was set on fire.

This, however, did not save him from being condemned to death—­he was the last man sentenced in the old barbarous fashion to be hanged, drawn and quartered—­this sentence being afterwards commuted to penal servitude.  Certainly, whether on the field or facing the scaffold for Ireland there was no more gallant figure among the Fenian leaders than James Francis Xavier O’Brien.

Few knew of his sterling worth as I did.  For several years after his return to liberty I was in close daily contact with this white-haired mild-looking old gentleman—­still tolerably active and supple, though—­who could blaze up and fight to the death over what he considered a matter of principle.  The most admirable feature in his character was that, in all things you found him straight.

One of the Fenian chiefs I met in Liverpool was General Halpin, who, on the night of the Rising, was in command of the district around Dublin.  The first of the insurgents who reached Tallaght, the place of rendezvous on the night of the 5th of March, 1867, were received by a volley from the police and dispersed.  One party had captured the police barracks at Glencullen and Stepaside, and disarmed the police, but on approaching Tallaght, and hearing that all was over, they too dispersed.

While most of the Irish-American officers bore the marks of their profession rather too prominently for safety against the observance of a trained detective, General Halpin was the last man in the world anyone would, from his appearance, take to be a soldier.  He looked far more like a comfortable Irish parish priest.  And yet he was, perhaps, the most thoroughly scientific soldier of all those that crossed the Atlantic at this time.

Reading the evidence of Corydon in one of the trials, I find he described Edmond O’Donovan as helping Halpin to make maps for use when the Rising would take place.  Knowing both men so well, I can say that none better could be found for planning out a campaign.  They were thoroughly scientific men, and always anxious to impart their knowledge to other Irishmen for the good of the Cause.