Twenty Years' Recollections of an Irish Police Magistrate

by Frank Thorpe Porter

CHAPTER XVII. JOHN SARGEANT—THE MAGISTERIAL OFFICES—TWO MURDERS—ONE REPRIEVED—DELAHUNT'S CRIMES.

I shall now present a magisterial reminiscence which derives its greatest interest from antecedent occurrences, the first of which brings me back to 1821, the year in which George the Fourth visited Ireland. If I become a little diffuse in my recollections of the period, it is because they are strongly impressed on my memory, and extraordinary in their nature. Nothing could exceed the universal homage tendered to the king. If it has been termed "servile adulation" by some, I am not prepared to insist on a complete exoneration of our national character from such an imputation. I was then an undergraduate of the University of Dublin. On the day of the Royal entry, we, the students, possessed ourselves of the railings in front of the College, as affording an excellent view of the procession. The rails were freshly painted, and produced a most piebald appearance on our hands and clothes (blue coats with "welcome" buttons, white waistcoats and trousers.) We rubbed some of the paint off our hands on the faces and clothes of each other previous to proceeding to the Castle with the University Address. On entering the upper yard from Cork Hill, we marched to the right by the footway, and had an opportunity, of which we availed ourselves, of pulling the white caps off some of the cooks and scullions who were viewing us from the two lower windows in the farthest corner of the yard. We jostled each other up the staircase, and during the reading of the Address, amused ourselves by climbing on each other's shoulders by turns in order to have a better view. Some of us, amongst whom I was one, suggested rather loudly, that cakes and wine would be acceptable. This produced a counter suggestion from some officials of our immediate retirement from the State apartments. On reaching the hall, I observed the porters and other attendants sternly expelling a tall female who was dressed in deep black. She appeared in great affliction, but was accorded no sympathy. No one thought that anyone else had a right to be sad when the King was in Ireland. I subsequently saw the "woman in black," at the review in the Phœnix Park, vainly endeavouring to approach the Royal presence. I was a spectator of the various public demonstrations during the Royal sojourn, and enjoyed the exciting pageantry as anyone of my age and temperament might be supposed to do. I pass, however, to the day of the King's departure, the 3rd of September. On the morning of that day, the place of his embarkation was Dunleary, but on his arrival he changed its designation into "The Royal Harbour of Kingstown." He entered his barge very near the place where the commemorative column stands, and close to the inner end of the eastern pier. The "woman in black" somehow managed to get very near. She endeavoured in vain to address him, and just as the Royal barge was shoving off, she rushed forward, holding a paper in her hand, and, in her frantic haste, was precipitated into the water, from which, however, she was speedily rescued. The king saw enough of her exertions and mishap to excite his curiosity, and ordered her communication to be received and laid before him. It was a petition imploring the Royal mercy for her husband, who was then under sentence of death in a southern county, for burning his house with intent to defraud an insurance company. Her prayer was favourably considered. An act of clemency appeared peculiarly suitable to the termination of the Royal visit, and the sentence on John Sargeant was commuted to transportation.

At the time to which I refer there was a considerable portion of Kilmainham prison appropriated to the reception of convicts under sentence of transportation; and in a short time after the successful exertions of the "woman in black" at Kingstown, John Sargeant was transmitted to Kilmainham, there to remain until a sufficient number of convicts were congregated to form a living freight for a transport ship, and to transfer the future advantages of their patriotic exertions to a southern hemisphere. I use the term "patriotic" in the same sense as the accomplished pickpocket, Borrington, applied it in a prologue spoken by him previous to the performance of a play at Sydney by a company consisting exclusively of transported thieves—

"True patriots we! for be it understood,

We left our country for our country's good."

At the time of Sargeant's arrival at Kilmainham, I had a very near relative who was a member of the committee or board which superintended the gaol, and I frequently accompanied him to the prison. Sargeant was a person of considerable educational acquirements. He managed to ingratiate himself with some of the authorities of the convict depôt, especially with a Dr. Trevor. He was frequently employed in copying documents, which business he discharged most satisfactorily; and I have often seen him thus engaged. When the other convicts were sent off, some pretext or excuse was made available for retaining him, and after the expiration of two years, he succeeded in obtaining a pardon, and was released from confinement. The "woman in black" did not witness his liberation; she had previously succumbed to that fate which crime inflicts most severely on those whose love clings to unworthy and guilty objects, even in suffering and disgrace; love which, like the ivy, will embrace a ruin with greater tenacity than it would if the structure stood in its pristine strength or in renovated beauty.

About three years more had elapsed, and I was residing in London, attending the number of terms requisite for a call to the Irish Bar. At Gray's Inn I was an adept in all the duties then requisite for an admission to the status of a learned barrister-at-law, and indeed I brought to their inception no slight qualifications. I could decant old crusted Port without a funnel, my carving was considered faultless, and the salads of my dressing would gratify the palate of Apicius Cœlius. In that society there was far greater intercourse between the Bar and the students than I ever observed at our King's Inns. I frequently derived great pleasure and, I believe, no slight advantage, from the conversation of those whose deep research and matured experience qualified them to utter words of wisdom and suggestions of prudence to their juniors. I was fond of attending the courts, and criminal trials possessed for me a peculiar attraction. One day I sat close to two barristers whom I had occasionally met previously. They spoke with great interest of a trial which was expected to be held at the Old Bailey on the following morning, and suggested to me to be present at it, and I followed their advice. The prisoner was alleged to have been concerned in various frauds, but the specific offence for which he was tried was for obtaining upwards of £800 under false pretences and representations, and by means of forged documents. It appeared that a West Indian Creole, Mr. D——, had arrived in London some months previous, possessed of an immense fortune. He indulged in habits of extravagance most frivolous and ostentatious. He fell into the error of considering fast society good society, and formed acquaintances and established confidences which a very moderate share of discretion would have made him avoid. Mr. D—— had seen a lady, a member of a noble family, whose ancient lineage connected them with the most remote periods of English history, and in which gentle blood was thoroughly united with personal worth. Mr. D—— became deeply enamoured, and made no secret of his admiration, but he could not procure an introduction. His tropical temperament spurned all patience and prudence, and an Irish gentleman, Mr. John Sibthorpe, took him under his guidance and protection, and promised to realize all his visions of matrimonial bliss. Sibthorpe advised that the lady's maid should be approached, and enlisted, with an ample bounty, in the Creole's service, and that she might be induced, in a short time, to convey letters to the adored one, who could not long continue indifferent to the suit of an amiable, wealthy, and disinterested lover. The bait was swallowed. One hundred sovereigns were confided to Sibthorpe to be transmitted to Kitty, and a note in reply, purporting to be written by her, acknowledged the Creole's generosity and promised her best exertions. More money was sent and more notes were received. The lady was described as expressing a lively and grateful interest in the man who had manifested such an attachment. This encouraging communication produced a most respectful but ardent letter from the lover to the lady, and a further douceur to the maid. In due time Mr. D—— received a note couched in terms most favourable to his suit, and professing to be written by the fair hand which he panted to possess. Enraptured beyond expression, he imagined himself at the summit of his wishes, when he casually and suddenly learned the afflicting intelligence that the lady's nuptials with a noble suitor were fixed for an early day. Unable to restrain his feelings, he rushed into her paternal hall as she was about to enter her carriage, and kneeling before her, besought her pity for a broken-hearted man to whom she had kindly written. Mr. D—— was interrupted in his expostulations by being kicked out of doors by the footmen, and he soon discovered that Sibthorpe had forged the correspondence on the part of both maid and mistress. The delinquent was apprehended, prosecuted, and convicted. I heard him sentenced to two years' imprisonment with hard labor, and as he stood at the bar I had no difficulty in recognising the object of anxious solicitude to "the woman in black," the pardoned incendiary, the profligate John Sargeant.

In two or three months after the trial of this swindler, I returned to Ireland, and engaged in professional pursuits, to which I devoted my attention for about twelve years. I then became a magistrate of police. In 1844, I was doing duty in College Street Police Court for the late Alderman Tyndall, who was suffering from severe indisposition. An application was made to me by a director and secretary of one of the principal banks in the city, I think it was "The Royal." They were accompanied by their solicitor, and it appeared that a bill of exchange for £100, purporting to be the acceptance of a gentleman of high position in the county of Wicklow, had been tendered for discount on the previous day, and that they had ascertained it to be a forgery. A close description was given of the accused, who had been told to call at the bank at two o'clock. An information was sworn and a warrant issued, and the delinquent was apprehended in the vestibule of the bank, whither he had the audacity or folly to proceed on his nefarious design. On being placed before me, he stated his name to be John Sharkey, and that he had recently returned from Oporto, where for several years he had been employed as a clerk in an English house engaged in the wine trade. I remanded the case for the production of the alleged acceptor, and during the intervening time very conclusive evidence was obtained as to the body of the bill having been written by the prisoner. At his final committal, I told him that, although I never before had any magisterial cognisance of him, I had no difficulty in recognising the person whom I had seen convicted at the Old Bailey, and who had previously been an inmate of Kilmainham, after having the sentence of capital punishment commuted to transportation. The latter punishment was subsequently awarded to him in Green Street, and thus, as far as I am aware, was closed the career of Mr. John Sargeant.