Malachy obeyed; and we remained near the Market-house, waiting their arrival until the soldiers approached.
“Our cause is lost!” exclaimed Emmet, snatching the rockets from the man’s hand who carried them, and trampling them under his feet, he continued, “Let our friends at a distance escape comrades, provide for your own safety.”
A skirmish now ensued, and we succeeded in forcing our way into Francis-street, but had not proceeded far before we saw another party of soldiers advancing against us from the Coombe.
“This way sir!” cried a voice I had heard before, and Denis Howlan seized my arms, and pulled me into a street (Plunket-street;) full of old clothes shops. About a dozen doors down we turned into a shop, Denis asked as we entered, “Friend or foe?” “Friend!” cried an old man, hurrying us into a back parlour, and then up stairs. “The roof, the roof,” he whispered; and accordingly we made our exit through a dorman window. In the gutter, between the houses, we found three men, who had sought that place of safety; and, having also danger to apprehend, we took like them a recumbent posture.
Throughout the night our ears were assailed with noises like those of a town suddenly attacked—bells ringing—drums beating, and all the clamor of war—while an occasional shot announced that our danger was not over. My companions sent up incessant prayers for the safety of their enthusiastic leader, and, as I loved the man, I heartily joined in their observations.
It was during the progress of the insurgents from the depot, that the attention of the rear was diverted by the arrival of an equipage; a moment’s enquiry satisfied the mob it was that of the lord chief justice of Ireland. A halt was instantly called, disorder and tumult prevailed; the heads of the advancing party immediately returned upon their steps, and the massacre of the venerable Lord Kilwarden was called for and committed by some cold-blooded ruffians amongst them!
It is universally agreed that the murder of this excellent man was the unpremeditated act of a ferocious rabble; but there are various accounts of their probable motives in wantonly sacrificing so upright and humane a judge to their fury. A popular explanation of this is, that the perpetrators mistook him for another person. There is also an account which admits the mistake in the first instance, but sub-joins other particulars, which appear sufficiently probable; and as some of the facts, of which there is no doubt, reflect the highest honour upon Lord Kilwarden’s memory, the whole shall be here given.
In the year 1795, when he was attorney general, a number of young men (all of whom were between the ages of fifteen and twenty) were indicted for high treason. Upon the day appointed for their trial, they appeared in the dock wearing shirts with tuckers and open collars, in the manner usual with boys. When the chief justice of the King’s Bench, before whom they were to be tried, came into court. and observing them, he called out, “Well, Mr. Attorney, I suppose you’re ready to go on with the trials of these tuckered traitors?” The attorney-general was ready, and had attended for the purpose; but indignant and disgusted at hearing such language from the judgment seat, he rose and replied, “No, my lord, I am not ready; and (added he, in a low tone to one of the prisoner’s counsel who was near him) if I have any power to save the lives of these boys, whose extreme youth I did not before observe, that man shall never have the gratification of passing sentence upon a single one of those tuckered traitors.” He performed his promise, and soon after procured pardons for them all, upon the condition of their expatriating themselves for ever; but one of them obstinately refusing to accept the pardon upon that condition, he was tried, convicted and executed. Thus far the fact upon credible authorities; what follows is given as an unauthenticated report. After the death of this young man, his relatives, it is said, readily listening to every misrepresentation which flattered their resentment, became persuaded that the attorney-general had selected him alone to suffer the utmost severity of the law. One of these, (a person named Shannon) was an insurgent on the 23d of July, and when Lord Kilwarden, hearing the popular cry of vengeance, exclaimed from his carriage, “It is I Kilwarden, chief justice of the King’s Bench!” “Then!” cried out Shannon, “you’re the man that I want!” and plunged a pike into his lordship’s body.
It was at this period, it is asserted, that Mr. Emmet, and the other leaders, who had been somewhat more than an hour engaged in a task far beyond their powers, retired in despair at finding all command disregarded, all efforts to produce subordination ineffectual; and their favorite project of seizing the castle rejected for the slightest opportunity that occurred of indulging the predatory disposition of their associates to rapine and murder. It has been urged in their favour, that shocked and disgusted at the murder of Lord Kilwarden, the chiefs instantaneously came to the resolution of abandoning their unprincipled followers.
A detachment of the regular army coming up now, commenced a brisk fire on the remaining insurgents, and obliged them, after a short resistance, to seek safety in flight. A party of soldiers, stationed at the Coombe, under Lieutenant Douglas, was attacked by the mob who were retiring from Thomas-street, and made to give way after a severe skirmish. At this attack the bravery of a venerable old man shone conspicuous; his son was attacked and sorely pressed by the bayonet of one of the soldiers, and would inevitably have been sacrificed, had not the parent, who saw his danger, stept in and received the blow intended for the son.