The Captain’s occasional depredations in the county of Wexford excited great alarm, for a robbery there then was a thing of very rare occurrence. Notice was at length given of the banditti retreat, and Archibald Jacob marched the military out of Enniscorthy and surrounded the wood. Some of the soldiers and yeomanry penetrated the fastness, and in the thickest part of the shade they discovered the “Robber Chief,” and five of his followers, on a bed of straw, in a romantic cave. The freebooters defended themselves with desperate valour, and before they surrendered, wounded five of the military. After they were secured, their retreat was found to contain all the necessary implements for housebreaking, and abundance of arms. The captain was committed to Wexford jail in the name of Cooney; but the evidence against him being doubtful, it was apprehended that he would be acquitted, when, unfortunately for him, it was discovered that he was the celebrated Captain Grant. The jailor of Maryborough now claimed his body, and he was forthwith transmitted to his former abode, only just in time, as it was eventually found out, to prevent his again escaping from the jail in which he was confined, in obedience to and in conformity with a plan which had been matured, and which was to be put into operation on the very night on which he was removed.
His trial came on at Maryborough, August the 16th 1816, when he was found guilty of the burglary in Mr. Cambie’s house. To the question “What reason he had why judgment and sentence of death should not be passed on him?” he replied in the most firm, collected, and, indeed, feeling manner, “My lord, I only beg of the Court some short time to arrange things before my departure for another place; not in the idle hope of escape or pardon, but to make restitution to the persons who have suffered by my bad line of life. I have been visited in my cell by some blessed people, who have, thank God, given this turn to my mind, and to which I implore your lordship’s attention.”
Sentence was then immediately passed upon him; but in obedience to his request, his execution was deferred until the 29th of August, when he met his fate with decent fortitude and pious resignation.
THOMAS CARSON.
CONVICTED OF MURDER.
THE Irish are capital actors, but generally give to tragic parts a comic effect. The following case of successful adroitness is only one out of many such tricks played off in the prisons of the sister kingdom.
Thomas Carson and his brother John were tried at the Meath assizes, in the spring of 1816, for the wilful murder of a man named Cassidy. The Carsons belonged to a corps of yeomen; and being Protestants, they were privileged to carry arms. Of these, however, they made a bad use, and turned them against one of his Majesty’s subjects, named Cassidy, whose life they took away, through wanton cruelty, in Kilmainham Wood, in the county of Meath. John was acquitted; but Thomas Carson was found guilty, and ordered for execution on the following Friday morning, at one o’clock.
At five o’clock on Friday morning a brother of the prisoner went to see the unhappy culprit, and informed the jailor that Mr. Wainwright, the clergyman, would attend in a short time to pray with and administer the sacrament to his brother. The judge had, from humanity, directed that his relations should have free access to the prisoner, so that his brother was permitted to go into the condemned cell to him. Some time after the jailor entered the cell, and said that the time was very short, and if the clergyman was expected, they had better send for him. The brother offered to go for him, and apparently retired. Shortly after Mr. Wainwright came; and being shown into the cell, continued a long time in prayer with the prisoner. The time of execution approaching, the jailor came in, accompanied by the prisoner’s uncle. The clergyman told the prisoner he had no time to lose—that his uncle had come, and would communicate with him in the administration of the sacrament. The prisoner entreated to be allowed to pray a little longer, and appeared absorbed in devotion. At length the jailor becoming quite impatient, he rose from the straw on which he was kneeling, and welcomed his uncle. The latter instantly exclaimed, “Good God! how grief has altered him! this cannot be Tommy!” and looking nearer—“No,” said he, “this is Anthony Carson!” The clergyman was amazed—the jailor ran down stairs, and discovered that the person whom he had sent for the clergyman was no other than the convict himself, who had not thought proper to return.
Coming back into his cell, the jailor cried out, “Your brother is gone off! what shall I do? I am ruined!”—“Gone off!” cried Anthony with great surprise; “Oh, he has taken away my big coat.”
The two brothers served in the same corps, and were so alike in appearance that Anthony came to the prison in a frize great-coat, which he gave to the convict, who, thus disguised, passed all the doors of the prison, and walked deliberately into the street, from whence, in great apparent affliction, he looked up at the preparation for execution, and passed on as if to Mr. Wainwright’s house.